


Nova, Baby

by Cockbite (personalized_radio), hrtbnr (kiden)



Series: The Cockbite Syndicate [7]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crew as Family, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake AU, Fake Chop, M/M, dog parks!!!!, kind of ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 67,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/personalized_radio/pseuds/Cockbite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/hrtbnr
Summary: All your enemiesSmile when you fallYou take it cause youDon't know what you wantYou don't know what you wantAll this love of mineAll my precious timeYou waste it 'cause youDon't know what you wantYou don't know what you want~ Nova, BabyOR"You fool, you moron, you petty child,"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends!!! long time no see!!! yes u may have hoped u'd seen the last of me but, alas, u are wrong and here i am. here i am A L O N G with my friend JACKIE (@hrtbnr) who agreed to do this collab with me. it started out as a 5+1 that was meant to not be long and then it turned into a 30k thing and then it turned into. this. lmao. whoops. back at it again.  
> it was written as a one shot so chapters may be a little inconsistently lengthed BUT its completely finished SO there will be a steady posting schedule :) which is Wednesday (around 5pm-ish probably and not 10pm our time lmao whoops again thats on me). anyway YES. I'd like to thank literally just all of my friends for being willing to give it a read over (shout out to ash, jess, cas, tay, marianne, gina, kat, u r all angels <3 esp u ash im so sorry for all the notifs u had to go thru). a
> 
> most of all tho, id like to thank jackie!!!!! who went on this wildt ride with me as we tried to write a cafe au that turned into a fake au that turned into a dog park au that turned into some sort of weird threesome of all of those things. i loved the process of it even if it took us months and i loved writing with u and i cant wait to do it again. u put up with a lot of finnicky bs and a lot of stubbornness and a lot of whining u are a SAINT <3 - hannah
> 
> hello friends! first of all, thank you hannah for putting up with me for all this time. because i cry a lot and whine and have just a deep well of insecurities, but you were patient and kind and never yelled at me, even though you absolutely should have. that would have been super valid. thank you everyone who reads this!! i hope you enjoy it even half as much as i enjoyed writing it because, oh boy, was it fun. i love you all wow right? like w o w how can one person hold all this love and yet here i am doing it. truly something. - mr. heart boner

As far as shakedowns go, it wasn’t their _most_ successful, but it hadn’t been for naught, either.

Aleks thumbed through the thin stack of cash as he walked across the empty street, Brett trailing behind him quietly.

It was Quiet Brett, which worried Aleks more than most other things in his life, including the people trying to muscle in on his territory. Quiet Brett was a Thoughtful Brett, and a Thoughtful Brett usually meant that Aleks was in for a lecture, a lesson, something he didn’t want to hear, or all three at once.

“Spit it out,” he finally sighed, stopping at the corner to stuff the money in his hoodie pocket and turning to look at Brett.

“It’s nothin’,” Brett shrugged him off, which just made Aleks _more_ worried.

“Seriously. You’re too quiet. What?”

Brett rubbed at his face, expression not quite worried. More troubled.

“We barely got two hundred out of that guy.”

“His sales weren’t good this week,” Aleks shrugged, “so?”

“Yeah, except his sales aren’t good _any_ week. And neither are any of the other dealers paying rent. We’re bleeding out.”

“Oh, cool, this again,” Aleks groaned, walking backwards across the street. “We aren’t bleeding out, for fuck’s sake. What do we even need fat stacks for, dude, we’re -”

“Tiny? Insignificant? Holding down a handful of blocks?”

“Dude.” Aleks stopped walking, frowning at him over his shoulder. “We aren’t _insignificant_.”

“We’re gonna be,” Brett said, for what felt like the millionth time, and might have been. “We need to start seriously thinking about this, Aleks. If you’re not growing you might as well be dying. And we’re stagnant.”

When they hit the sidewalk, Brett caught him by the back of his hoodie, so not to collide with a group of teenage girls, who he smiled at as they passed. They made an _eyech_ sound and Aleks made it back - teenagers were really the fucking worst, always acting like they could see right through him and knew he was some kind of imposter, as if they even remembered what it had been _before_ \- then shook Brett off of him. There had to be a time and a place where being nice was worth it, but Aleks sure as hell hadn’t found it yet.

“Why can’t you just be content with what you have?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked on.

“Are you kidding?” Brett stopped but Aleks kept going, refusing to play into Brett’s theatrics. He had a habit of talking to Aleks like he was a kid or an idiot. Short and slow sentences like an asshole. As if he wasn’t sure Aleks had a complete grasp on English yet.

“Da,” Aleks said, nodding, and Brett started walking again. With his long-gone thick accent, he said, “That is me. Jokester.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Aleks said, his jaw tight. He didn’t bother turning around to meet Brett’s eye. “ _I’m_ happy where we are. Why can’t you just, -”

“Because it’s been almost two years and we’ve done nothing but nickel-and-dime the same twenty square blocks.” Without looking he knew Brett was rubbing his face, trying to keep his temper from exploding out of it. His voice was a guitar string stretched an octave too high. “This isn't what I wanna do forever. This isn’t what you wanted. Sure as hell isn’t what you pitched.”

“Is this performance review?”

“Maybe it is.”

Aleks finally stopped and Brett did too, still a few feet behind him. There was a bar to his left that was a fire house just a few years ago, the big doors thrown open, and it looked fucking inviting. Good music, even on the street he could feel the bass under his feet, and from the corner of his eye he could see all the pretty girls and boys, the liquor bottles behind the bar sparkling. He thought very hard about slipping into the place and disappearing into that low lighting, the mess of bodies and avoiding Brett for the night, and then the rest of his life.

Brett was quiet, just waiting for Aleks to say something, and with every second that passed the tension between them got tighter. Heavier. After weeks of it, Aleks still had no idea how to shake it. Fighting with Brett would’ve been easy if Aleks didn’t understand. If he could just plant his feet and refuse to fucking move, not giving Brett an inch, just generally be a stubborn piece of shit. But he did understand, which made it all very, very fucking difficult.

There was just nothing he could do about it.

“What would be your plan here?” he said, and finally spun around to look at him. “You wanna push towards South Lo? That would go over real great, dude. Or maybe we should just relocate entirely right to the middle of fucking Vinewood.”

“You’re incapable of having an adult conversation.” Brett pushed past him, all but stomping to the corner just to stand there and wait for traffic to lighten up enough to cross.

“You realize there’s _four_ of us now, right? It’s just us, Trevor, and Lindsey. That’s all we got. You wanna take over the world with four goddamn people.”

With a sigh, Brett faced him, and not for the first time Aleks was struck by how tired he looked. Under the bill of his hat, his eyes were shadowed and dark-ringed, and although he didn’t want to admit it, Aleks was starting to feel the same way. Their neighborhood had begun to feel like a cage and Brett was shouldering the bars of it, looking to break out, and maybe Aleks was starting to as well. But what they had was safe, and theirs, and expanding would be dangerous.

And maybe they’d lose what they had already. And what they had wasn’t expendable. Not to Aleks. He’d fought fucking hard for those twenty square blocks. Losing them was not an option. It wasn’t just some random fucking neighborhood. It was personal, it meant something to him, and Brett knew that.

But it wasn’t a lie - he’d pitched something much bigger when Brett agreed to be a part of this. Penthouses and Lamborghinis and heists, real fucking big-time heists, and he’d meant it all. Those things had always been the plan. And they still were, sort of.

But four people wasn’t shit. It was barely a crew.

They just didn’t have the resources.

“Look,” he said under the uncomfortable silence of Brett’s fucking glare, “we got this thing with Farid coming up - I don’t know. Maybe we can fucking...parlay it into something bigger, you know? Clone the VINs and turn them over. If we can’t move them we call Anonymous. That’s maybe half a mil and there’s a fucking lot we could do with that.”

Brett didn’t say anything. He just turned and headed across the street to his truck and Aleks followed, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Blowing up at Brett wouldn’t accomplish anything. But he’d been taking deep breaths for weeks over this shit and there was only so much he could contain.

“You and this fucking neighborhood,” Brett said lowly, more to himself than Aleks, but he heard it crystal clear anyway. “I know you got _history_ with it, but fuck, man, we’re going nowhere fucking fast confined to it.”

Brett unlocked the doors but Aleks continued standing in the street, mouth dry and hands sweaty and suddenly so fucking angry he couldn’t see straight.

“If we had more people, maybe -”

“You don’t think there’s people?” Brett said, hand braced against the driver’s side window. “You don’t think there’d be people running to our fucking door if they thought you had it open? You act like we’re - like _you’re_ going at this alone. We have friends, Aleks. We have fucking people we can count on. You _know_ that. You just don’t wanna use it.”

“Why should we? Why fucking should we if we don’t have to?” Aleks said, just managing to stop himself from yelling. “We got this far alone - just us, hell, we didn’t even have Trevor when this started. It was just you and me and Lindsey. Why do we need anyone else? I’m _happy_ , Brett.”

“I’m not,” Brett said and it fell between them like a fucking meteor. “I don’t think Lindsey is either. We want more, man. We’re ready as a crew for _more_ than this. Aren’t you tired of living in the shadow of a fucking ghost?”

“Don’t,” Aleks said sharply. Brett sighed and shook his head.

Aleks glanced around to avoid Brett - the store fronts, the people walking and milling about, most of them laughing and drunk and flushed, they looked happy. They were happy. He couldn’t fucking remember the last time he’d seen Brett or Lindsey look like that. Or Trevor. Or himself, for all his bullshit posturing was worth.

He needed a drink.

Without saying a word, Aleks grabbed his skateboard from the backseat of the truck and slammed the door. He could practically feel Brett rolling his eyes.

Dropping the board, Aleks stepped on it with his left foot, rolling it back and forth as he tried to figure out what the hell he wanted to say. All his thoughts were loud, jumbled, and all the parts that were focused just wanted to get fucked up. Wanted to just forget about all this for another day.

“The Farid shit will - it’ll change things. Put us back on track. We can move those if it works out, maybe you can make a Haus call, I don’t know. We’ll fucking…” He popped the board up with his heel and let it fall. “Find our footing again.”

Brett didn’t respond and a long silence passed between them after Aleks tossed him the measly take from their shakedown. The avenue was loud, felt alive, and Aleks wanted to lose himself in it. It was _his_. It fucking belonged to him. And he planned on taking everything it had to offer for the night.

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?”

“I’m not going home,” Aleks said shortly. “Thanks though.”

Brett huffed out an unamused laugh, like, _yeah, it figures,_ full of the kind of disappointment that could make Aleks’ blood boil, and climbed into his truck. Aleks didn’t even wait for him to start the engine before he kicked off, skating in the opposite direction Brett would be heading in. Maybe he’d circle around and go to the bar they’d passed.

Like every other time they almost, but not quite, had this conversation, Aleks was left feeling angry and empty in a way he didn’t understand. Brett wasn’t wrong but neither was Aleks, and he had no idea where that fucking left them. Stagnant, Brett had said. They were at a goddamn stalemate.

-

The deal was supposed to help soothe the ruffled feathers of his crew, but that wasn’t even the biggest issue. It wasn’t that it had taken weeks to set up the meeting because Farid was a busy fuckin’ guy around these parts. Not even the investment into the Immortal brand that was lost.

What made Aleks the angriest was that this imposter, if he existed, didn’t even have the balls to show the fuck up himself. That he’d sent some kid to _lie through his teeth_ and snipe the deal.

And, fine, maybe he didn’t look much younger than Aleks, but he looked so goddamn out of place - like he’d just stepped out of a high school chemistry class and stumbled into a shady back alley transaction. With his jean jacket and dopey little smile, he’d looked so surreal just strolling toward their little huddle like he’d been a part of the original plans that it had taken them all a hot second to even bother reaching for their guns, Farid’s guys included.

“Hi, I hate to interrupt,” he said, tone so light Aleks thought he might ask for the time or talk about the weather. His fingers curled around the grip of his gun, finally, when the guy went on, “but my boss sent me. I’m sure glad I got here in time. I work for Nova.”

It wasn’t quite the punch it used to be, hearing that name, but it wasn’t easy to stop himself from reacting either. Brett put a hand out, a non-verbal reminder to not react how he used to and to be more fucking reserved in front of Farid. He couldn’t help but draw his gun, though, fingers tight.

“You’d better watch your fucking tongue,” he gritted, “and what names you’re throwing around, before I cut it out.”

“You’re definitely not from here, huh?” Farid gave the kid a once-over. “ _Definitely_ not from around these parts if you’re bringing Nova up in mixed company.”

“Nova’s dead,” Brett said shortly, cutting the topic off. His hand was on the .33 cal on his hip, but the other was still holding Aleks back, if only metaphorically. “Try again. Better yet, get out of here before you lose your life, kid.”

The guy blinked and Aleks had to narrow his eyes and kinda peer at him, try to figure out why this preschooler looked so calm while vulturing their deal or if he seemed to have any idea of the weight of what he’d just said. But no, there wasn’t a hint of stress on his face or in the casual slouch of his shoulders.

Looking closer, Aleks could make out a familiar logo on the breast of his jacket - a vertical rectangle that he hadn’t seen in almost a year. That patch had burnt away with the rest of the Hub.

“I just talked to him,” the guy finally said, slowly like he’d been weighing whether to reply or not. “He’s not dead. Who told you he was dead? Rumors can be so wild.” He turned back to Farid, “Anyway, I wanna talk about our relationship. Nova wants some pretty cars. He wants Lambos.”

“I got pretty cars,” Farid said, “I got Lambos.”

“He wants those Lambos,” the guy pointed at the cars - Aleks’ cars - where they were parked at the end of the alley, partially covered by tarp. “Specifically those Lambos.”

“Come on, dude,” Aleks scoffed, loud enough to get Farid’s attention. Trying to control the anger in his stomach, he forced, “Everyone knows Nova’s dead. No one’s gonna buy your bullshit here, right, Farid?”

Farid’s mouth tightened. He looked between the two of them, Aleks and this fucking guy with his logo, and Aleks barely held back a curse when he saw the way his expression darkened. “No offense, Immortal,” Farid shrugged, almost managing to actually sound sorry, “but… well. If Nova’s back and he wants the cars… It’s nothing personal, you know?”

Aleks’ fingers clenched for a moment around his gun but let go quickly when Farid caught the movement. There was a warning in the lines of his face. No matter how furious he felt, they had to leave on good terms. Giving Farid a problem was a bad idea. Arguing with him wouldn’t accomplish a fucking thing except give them a shitty reputation as sore losers and bad for business. So Aleks holstered his gun, shoved his right hand in his pocket where it was safe, and dragged the other through his hair.

“Yeah, I get it, man,” he said, and felt Brett shift unhappily beside him. “No big deal. We’ll hit you up in a few. See what else you got.”

Farid nodded and reached to shake both their hands, Brett and then Aleks, and when he and his guys turned towards the infant who’d barged in, Aleks let himself look at him again. He hoped to hell Farid wouldn’t move forward with just this guy’s word; it was crazy he’d even listened to him so easily to begin with. Nova was dead, patch or not, and everyone knew it.

Aleks had looked. Had waited almost too long, hoping.

 _I just talked to him_ or whatever, the kid was a liar, but Aleks bit his tongue the best he could and hoped that when Farid figured it out he’d make him pay for it, if Aleks couldn’t do it himself.

Brett managed to stay quiet until they reached the car and then he hummed, the tiny sound setting Aleks on edge, and said, “Well, that went well.”

“Don’t,” Aleks snapped. “Don’t fucking do that. What the fuck was that? Throwing around Nova’s fuckin’ - his name -”

“Don’t know, but Farid is going to kill that kid when he can’t produce Nova. And if he doesn’t, someone else will. A lot of people aren’t going to like that name in some little idiot’s mouth.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’ll be first in fuckin’ line.” Aleks slumped down in the passenger seat. He didn’t fucking like it. “This is such bullshit. I wanted those fucking cars, Brett.”

And maybe he’d wanted them to calm Brett down about their stagnation more than he actually gave a shit about the money, but he’d _wanted them_ either goddamn way.

“Alright, calm down, Verruca,” Bret said easily, although Aleks could hear how angry Brett was too, maybe more than he was, simmering just underneath. “He’ll get in touch when this falls through, which it will. Farid’s good like that. No Nova, no sale, and he’ll call.”

Brett was using his _I wanna shoot someone_ voice. It was sort of calming to not hear it directed at him for once.

“Who the fuck’s Verruca?” Aleks asked. He didn’t like to think about Nova or the Hub or the bloody history their stretch of land had. Didn’t like thinking about any of that shit and hadn’t had to for a long time now that people stopped bringing it up around him.

“Verruca Salt. _Willy Wonka_?” Brett peeled onto the street, making a face at Aleks’ silence. “Presents and prizes and sweets and surprises in all shapes and sizes. And now!”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t care how, I want it now.”

Aleks turned on the radio and cranked the volume to the highest notch to drown him out.

The ride back to base wasn’t quiet and Brett tried to joke the air clear but the car still stank of defeat when they parked. After what happened, he’d prayed for his apartment to be empty - that Brett would just drop him off and bounce and anything left to talk about could be saved for the morning - but he had no such luck.

Lindsey’s tiny yellow car was tucked neatly between two pickups down the street and chances were that Trevor was around too. Both of them would be anxious to know how the deal went and it was exhausting already just thinking about attempting to explain the clusterfuck of a situation they’d been a part of. Or maybe facilitated a little. Certainly didn’t help.

After Brett parked they sat in the truck for a minute, Aleks scrubbing his hand over his face and pressing hard on the bridge of his nose, fingers digging in right where a headache was blooming. It was fucking annoying he felt shook and embarrassing that he reacted the way he did. But it was more than a habit, it was instinct. He’d beat that name out of a lot of mouths, and to hear someone say it so fucking casually lit a fire in his gut he thought had blown out a long time ago.

“Aleks.” Brett turned off the engine and was looking at him only through his peripheral, his focus on the windows of Aleks’ apartment instead. “Don’t turn this into a _thing_. We’ll get the cars. It’s just a hiccup.”

There wasn’t any use giving Brett a response. He was just as angry as Aleks was, just for _mostly_ different reasons, so they just climbed out of the truck and up the stairs to the apartment, where they found Trevor’s hopeful face and a very resigned looking Lindsey.

“Can’t help but notice neither of you rolled up in a Lamborghini,” she sighed, and gestured to Trevor until he went to get them a few beers.

“For now, we’re still living that Kia life, baby,” Brett said. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“But you’re still gonna tell us, right?” Trevor asked. He had two beers in each hand, hanging from between his fingers, and they clinked loudly against the counter when he put them down.

Every noise felt like a fucking gunshot in Aleks’ head.

“Yep, gather ‘round,” Brett said, but Aleks was already gone.

He grabbed two of the beers and left them all in the kitchen, hustling down the long hall to his bedroom. Mishka was sitting on his bed at attention, tail wagging, and Aleks put the bottles on the nightstand as he collapsed next to her. He didn’t care what Brett told them. Didn’t give a shit what Lindsey or Trevor would think. He’d wanted those fucking cars. They needed those cars. Brett had all but promised Fakehaus they’d be ready by the end of the week to fence.

He sighed, burying his hands in Mishka’s thick coat as she licked at his face and neck.

The neighborhood was theirs, it was _his_ , and if people were forgetting that - if they were going to start throwing around Nova’s name again - he’d just have to fucking remind them.

-

Aleks took a handful of chill pills to calm his nerves over the next week. When that didn’t work, he went for a few long walks with Mishka, got drunk with Lindsey, played some games with Trev, all while avoiding Brett. But the sting of it was too hard to shake off.

They were still waiting for Farid’s call. Brett assured them all that it would come when that kid’s bootleg Nova got made, but Aleks was sick of sitting around and waiting.

Instead, he headed to _The AH Brew_. Maybe he could catch Jack, if she was working, and ask for any leads on some other worthwhile rides to use for their now-paused deal with Fakehaus. If not, he could at least get some good coffee.

Around eleven was always prime time to stop in, after the morning commuters tapered off but the lunch rush was only a half an hour out and they were brewing fresh. Aleks became a regular when the shop was remodeled, and a week never felt complete until he stopped in to order his usual and relax in a no guns, no beef, no stress environment.

As usual, the place wasn’t busy when he pushed open the door, the tiny chime above his head announcing his entrance. A couple of bald, tattooed guys were sipping Americanos in the corner and a punk with more piercings than visible skin was chugging what Aleks could only assume was Godly Shit in one of the armchairs. Geoff, Jeremy, and Ryan were all working the counter - Geoff speaking closely with a guy he didn’t recognize, who was laughing loud enough that it immediately caught Aleks’ attention.

Aleks had never seen the guy around before, which wasn’t weird but was also…not _not_ weird. Especially for how comfortably he stood with Geoff, of all people, as if he were a friend. Dark hair was pulled back and tied into a tight bun at the top of his head, a beard just barely groomed enough to be called kempt, baggy clothes that didn’t do him any favors, and that laugh taking up the whole shop even while his shoulders curled in to cut down his height. Something struck Aleks as familiar, though he couldn’t place what. Maybe he was just one of those neighborhood kids that gravitated to Geoff.

The guy said something and Geoff laughed that weird ass giggle of his, and when he leaned back to catch his breath, hand on his chest, he noticed Aleks.

“Hey, man,” he greeted, his voice still light with laughter. “Hot or cold?”

“Cold,” Aleks said. “And big, with like, ninety shots of espresso. I’m tired and it’s about a hundred and fifty degrees out there.”

“Coming right up,” Geoff slapped his hand on the counter. “Jeremy make that come right up.”

Seeing the Fakes like this was always strange and would never stop being strange. Most of them probably still had both feet in the business, but once Geoff got out of it for good, and got sober, all of them seemed to shift, somehow. And Los Santos had shifted around them.

Aleks hung back a little, giving Geoff and whoever the hell he was talking to some space, but it didn’t go unnoticed and Geoff waved him closer.

Even as just the owner of a coffee shop, it was smart to listen to Geoff. So Aleks went. Got closer. And the dude, the fucking stranger Geoff had been talking to turned his head, just a little, just a fucking enough for Aleks to see his nose and big, round eyes.

He thought of the patch on that kid’s jacket. Thought of him saying _I just talked to him_. Nova. It had been over a year, but Aleks knew his face, that absolutely not at all dead face. He was thinner and looked older but it was definitely fucking him and Aleks struggled for a second with his own tongue, trying to say a half-dozen things at once but none of it making it out of his mouth.

“You ever meet Nova?”

Aleks heard Geoff but couldn’t understand the question. Had he ever met Nova? A gunshot wouldn’t have left him as breathless as he felt, looking from Geoff to the man in front of him, a ghost, a fucking dead man with piercing eyes, a quickly disappearing smile, his cheeks rosy, and very much alive.

No, he’d never met Nova. Not in any way that would count.

And then he’d died.

There’d never been a reason for anyone to introduce them. The neighborhoods the Hub members ran were big but that never made their presence small, and every job Aleks had done coming up was under the shadow of them.

Aleks had admired them.

And when they were gone, when Nova was dead, Aleks had-

Before Aleks could process it any further, or even try to make sense of what was happening, Geoff continued on, “This is Aleks. You know about him, right?”

“Probably not,” Aleks said, feeling flush with some kind of embarrassment, his stomach turning. “Holy _shit_.”

He was moving forward without weighing whether or not it was a good idea, his feet carrying him right up to the counter. The instinct to touch was there, making his fingers itch, because this couldn’t be real. They’d all been so certain Nova was dead, that he’d been taken out around the same time the Hub collapsed. People had looked for him. _Aleks_ had looked. But Geoff was smiling like this wasn’t strange, as if it wasn’t a fucking miracle.

“You’re alive,” Aleks breathed. “What the fuck. What the _fuck?_ ”

He’d always liked Nova: the way he carried himself, his reputation, how people lowered their voices when they said his name, like they were superstitious. As if saying it loud enough, or three times in a row or something, could summon him. Rumors of the violence and blood and how dangerous he really was, and all of it contrasting with the easy way he could smile at a kid he didn’t even know.

Yeah, Aleks had liked Nova. He’d searched for a long time after it all blew up, spent weeks with his ear to the ground hoping he’d hear something. Because someone like Nova couldn’t be dead.

And, fuck, he’d been right.

Nova was looking at him warily, slow and calculating, and Aleks knew he was sizing him up. Trying to make sense of who he was to Geoff, who he was in fucking general, to be falling over himself so spectacularly just to see him standing there. But Aleks’ gut was churning, excitement and confusion and an unexpected thread of anger.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked, bracing one hand on the counter as he leaned closer. “We thought you were dead. What - did you just - fucking _run_? Where have you been?”

The suspicion on Nova’s face turned to anger faster than Aleks could blink. He straightened up, his shoulders squaring, and cast his eyes on Geoff in a way that was clearly demanding an explanation for Aleks’ entire existence.

Geoff clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and said, simply as if it wasn’t a loaded fucking answer, “Aleks’ crew runs a few blocks of East Lo. You might be familiar with them.”

“The Immortals,” Nova said, and he didn’t sound happy but it still stirred something in Aleks to hear his crew - _his_ name - in Nova’s mouth.

Geoff hummed.

“He wasn’t fucking blond,” Nova said and Geoff laughed.

“Nah, that’s pretty new.”

New feelings were popping up - frustration and annoyance - that they were talking about him as if he wasn’t there, that he wasn’t getting an answer, and they were fucking trivializing it all. Who Aleks was and what he’d done and that after all the time Nova had been a rotting goddamn corpse he was just standing there, breathing. Breathing as if he’d never stopped.

“Did you fucking run?” he asked again, louder than the first time. Everything from the last year and a half felt suffocatingly heavy suddenly: the disarray and the people who’d gotten hurt when everything blew to shit. The damage that had been done in the space Nova’s death had left behind.

The shadow of him, of who Nova was, cast across Aleks’ entire life since the moment he’d disappeared.

“Who the fuck are you?” Nova said, loud and dangerous, rounding on Aleks in an instant.

“He just told you who the fuck I am,” Aleks found himself saying, his fingers closing into a fist on the counter.

“Yeah,” Nova said quickly, his voice low, face so red it looked like he might pop. He laughed, humorless and dark. “You’re the small-time hustler who saw an opening and thought you’d try being a big boy.”

“I’m the one who’s been running this shit,” Aleks snapped. There was a heat crawling up the back of his neck and he pushed his knuckles into the counter until they ached. “‘Cause where were you? Where the fuck were you, dude? Things got hard and you fucked off? Do you even _know_ what you left -”

From the corner of his eye Aleks could see Geoff’s back straighten and Ryan had moved out from behind the counter to lean on a display case just a few feet behind Nova.

“Say another fucking word,” Nova slammed his fist down next to Aleks’, and didn’t back away even when Ryan cleared his throat, “I’ll -”

“You’ll what?” Aleks pulled off his sunglasses and Nova took in his face like he was committing it to memory or trying to chase memories of it that already existed. “What the hell you gonna do? Rip my tongue out?”

Nova’s expression seemed to suggest _maybe_ and Aleks swallowed, pushing away the flare of nervousness that swept over him. It stuttered his breath and Nova didn’t miss it. He lingered on Aleks’ face again, which he knew was flushed, hot from his ears down to the hollow of his throat. A mixture of a rage that sideswiped him and how close Nova was standing, his eyes, and the smell of his cologne.

And the fact, God, he was alive. Fucking alive after everything.

Nova slowed his voice, made each word a punch, “You moved in on the wrong real estate. But play time’s over.” He gave Aleks a once over, made a face like he wasn't particularly impressed by his skinny jeans and loose-fitting tank top. “Daddy’s home.”

Aleks felt his entire face go hot without his permission.

“Are you ser - are you for fucking real -” Aleks spit out, tongue racing to keep up with the way his brain was tumbling and not quite making the cut. Nova didn’t say anything but he gave off a distinct air of victory that tasted sour.

Geoff shifted to make room for Jeremy, who finally set his order down, and Aleks yanked his wallet and slapped a five dollar bill on the counter. Ryan was edging closer, and he could feel the tension radiating off the Fakes. Whatever was happening, it was rapidly spiraling out of control, and they couldn’t do it here.

“The deal,” he said, swiping his cup and trying not to squeeze the plastic so hard the lid fell off. “You - those were my fucking Lambos. You can’t just show up and act like -”

“Like I own the place?” Nova sniped, voice pleasant as he raised his own cup to his mouth to take a smug sip.

“Like people still give a shit,” Aleks snapped back, and popped the hot bottom of Nova’s drink so fast he hadn’t even decided to do it before it was done.

Nova choked as hot liquid tipped forward unexpectedly, spilling over the side of his mug, onto his face and beard and his stupid fucking graphic tee. It was immature and stupid and he regretted it immediately, even though he saw a stifled laugh from Geoff from the corner of his eye. If nothing else, it managed to diffuse some of the dangerous tension between them.

He whirled around, stomping back to the door and he tried not to feel smug about the shrieked “MOTHERFUCKER!” flung after him.

The bell chimed again and he didn't look back, but he made sure he had his middle finger high until he disappeared around the corner, just in case Nova chased after him.

-

The next couple weeks were a nightmare, both personally and outside of his crew. Aleks didn’t want to think about it, but whenever the inevitable thoughts did appear he did his best to imagine the upcoming headaches as a faceless fucker and not _Nova_.

That made it easier. Made it safer, in a way. Let him keep a distance and let the hot-white anger Aleks felt about the entire encounter at the Brew die down a little. Die down enough that he let himself feel happy - if only very, very briefly.

There was no doubt Nova was going to make his life miserable, but the wide-eyed kid in him was still happy he wasn’t dead. Nova was alive, and he didn’t feel bad about letting himself be fucking over the moon about it for a day or so. That kid couldn’t help it, but the man he was now - head of the Immortals, in charge of these twenty square blocks, a recognized name - was mortified and furious and beginning to itch for a fight, for Nova to just make a move already, to get whatever it was about to happen over with.

Aleks woke up to Brett and Lindsey already in his apartment two weeks after the Brew incident. Everything smelling like coffee, a rich dark roast that pulled at Aleks’ feet until he slid down the stairs, tired and boneless, and followed their voices into the kitchen. They didn’t always get along, but Lindsey was a goddamn vision, tossing a breakfast sandwich at him and holding out a cup of coffee where she was sitting at his counter by way of a greeting.

“You’re going to tell me something fucking annoying. I know it. It’s too early, Brett,” Aleks said, taking the coffee and slumping unhappily into a kitchen chair.

Brett had been weird about the Nova-Back-From-The-Dead thing. Objectively not as weird as Aleks, and not as weird as it probably warranted, but still weird. When not aggressively pushing his agenda towards Aleks, he’d been soft and kind which was probably more trepidation than anything else. It felt a little like him shoving a baby pacifier in Aleks’ mouth, like he thought having Nova back around was going to shatter him or something. He hated it, but it wasn’t worth calling out. Not yet anyway.

“It’s one in the afternoon,” Brett said, not turning around from making his own coffee but Aleks could see the look he exchanged with Lindsey. “Trevor saw some signs that,” he paused to scoff, for no other reason than emphasis, “Nova is pushing back in a little more overtly than a few shadows on the borders.”

“Are people talking or - how does Trevor know -”

“Literally signs,” Lindsey said and she almost sounded like she might laugh.

“Don’t tell me -”

“They’re tagging. That stupid stylized name of his. There’s also flyers.” Brett turned with his coffee and sat down next to Aleks, Lindsey following and taking the last empty seat. “They’re directed at you, I think. I’d assume. Pretty vague though.”

He tossed a folded up paper from his pocket at Aleks, his jaw doing that thing that meant he was trying not to laugh. Lindsey wasn’t even trying.

It was an advertisement. Aleks only got as far as _daycare_ and _bleach-blond baby_ before he closed his fist around it and leaned back to reach into his kitchen junk drawer for a lighter.

“He’s trying to get a rise out of you,” Brett said, putting out the embers of Aleks’ impromptu fire as they hit the table. “It’s working.”

“It’s not.” Aleks dropped the flaming paper into the sink and grabbed his breakfast sandwich, unwrapping it and shoving half of it in his mouth before Lindsey even put out the rest of the fire. “I want him dead.”

That made Brett laugh, because he was a fucking shithead.

“Businesses?” Aleks said around a mouthful of egg and bacon.

Lindsey made a face at him and said, “A few flipped. Probably whoever he bothered to talk to. They hear his name and…” She gave a little helpless, frustrated shrug then hide her face behind a coffee mug.

“We’re gonna need to do crowd control, fast.” Brett lost his amused look, “Before this gets out of control.”

Aleks didn’t bother to respond. He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth to give himself time to think.

“Here’s what we do,” he said when he had swallowed, a little painfully, and downed the rest of Lindsey’s coffee before he could be stopped, “Lindsey, take Trev and go visit those fuckin’ turncoats. Remind them who took care of them when Nova fucked off without a word. And that they should remember what happened last time someone betrayed me.”

“Betrayal,” Lindsey wrinkled up her nose, “So dramatic. I like it.”

“We can’t burn down every storefront that turns their nose up,” Brett warned, “That’ll send ‘em all right to Nova’s arms.”

“Maybe,” Aleks smoothed out his sandwich wrapper and began to fold it without much thought, halves and then halves and then halves again, “But I’ll be real here, dawg. I’m gonna burn this motherfucker to the ground before I let that bitch take it from us.”

“Dark,” Lindsey slapped his hands from her mug and mournfully stared at the reminding coffee grounds, “He really pissed you off, huh?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Just take care of these shops. And get someone to clean up these fucking flyers.”

“You got it, boss,” Lindsey sighed, “But you know that isn’t gonna be enough to fix this. We need to take care of him.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Aleks promised as he watched her go and hoped it wasn’t a lie.

Brett didn’t say anything after the door closed, and neither did Aleks. The silence did nothing to calm his nerves. Part of him whispered that things would have been easier if Nova had just stayed dead. A different part of him was still relieved he hadn’t.

-

“Okay, girl, calm down. Jesus _Christ_ , find your chill, Mishka. Please, just this once,” Aleks begged her, knowing she wasn’t listening, “Don’t find some other dog’s shit to roll in. Just fuckin’ play for an hour and then we can go home and not take a bath, okay?”

They were only at the entrance to the park but it was after nine pm, which meant she didn’t have to be leashed, so Aleks wrangled the wiggly fluff ball that was his dog and unhooked her from the back of her harness. Mishka didn’t hesitate. She took off into the park, darting into a spot of densely packed trees and out of sight.

The night was chilly for the season and Aleks’ fingers were cold as he ripped down another fucking flyer taped to the brick entryway. It wasn’t new; it was weathered and sun faded, and he tried not to let it get to him, but like every other time he spotted the stragglers Trevor managed to miss, failed. The paper crunched in a wholly satisfying way when he closed his fist around it, _Kobe_ -ing it into the nearest trash can. For the last four weeks Aleks couldn’t take a step without running into Nova, or evidence of Nova, or just fucking _something_ to set him off.

Not even his walks with Mishka were safe.

And _The AH Brew_ had become a veritable nightmare. The last time he went, Nova had been there, just like the first time, and things had gone so bad so quickly Geoff seemed seconds away from siccing The Vagabond after them. Aleks was all about taking blame when he deserved it, and it was true he wasn’t trying to de-escalate the tension between them, but there didn’t seem to be a way to do that. And that wasn’t only because Nova was an insufferable prick.

 _James_ , he thought as he made his way in the direction Mishka had gone. Calling him Nova gave him power Aleks wasn’t willing to afford, not anymore. Nova was the gangster of Aleks’ youth he’d looked up to; James was the annoying dickhead who ruined his coffee breaks and was immature enough to think _flyers_ were a good intimidation tactic. Although, maybe they had worked. A little.

The neighborhood wasn’t flipping as quickly as James probably expected, which gave Aleks a few warm and fuzzy feelings but not enough to keep out the chill. He knew there’d be people loyal to the Nova brand. Under different circumstances he’d have been loyal, too, so it wasn’t a surprise. The surprise was how many people weren’t. Shop owners and dealers and the local MCs that Aleks knew, people who respected him and saw what he’d done back when they didn’t have anyone else to turn to. How long that would last though was uncertain. Nova - _James_ \- had a way of changing minds.

The flyers were just the start. As much as he’d decided not to give James the power of the Nova name in his own mind, the facts of the matter were that he _was_ Nova. And Nova wasn’t merciful. He’d been a boogeyman in this town, once. The kind of story that Aleks and his friends had whispered about in school, when they’d heard that the latest trouble-maker around the ‘hoods had disappeared. Nova had liked to play with his food, and maybe Aleks had found that fun to watch once - hear the stories of how he’d humiliated his enemies, beaten them down like it was all a game - but it wasn’t so nice possibly being his prey now.

Was his crew ready for that kind of fight? Maybe he could take James one-on-one, but there were serious doubts the Immortals were strong enough to take out this new crew Nova had brought. The chemistry class looking high school kid and the two strangers he’d heard rumors of around town might not be much to hear about, but if Nova was rolling with them there had to be a reason.

Aleks whistled for Mishka and heard her rustling in some nearby bushes, so he found a nice big tree, laid out the blanket he brought, and planted his ass in front of it.

As he listened for her, Aleks took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, rubbed his face over a yawn as he leaned back against the tree. His phone vibrated but he didn’t even look at it, just turned it off. A night off the radar was the least he deserved, or _needed,_ really, and unless his apartment was burning down he didn’t give a shit what was going on. Brett could handle it. Probably better than Aleks was handling anything currently.

Just an hour or two where he didn’t have to think, or be furious, or worry. It wasn’t much to ask for.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, listening to _nothing,_ just the sound of his dog playing and the wind through the trees, and felt thankful Los Santos could be so quiet, even if he had to wait until late for it to happen. When he opened his eyes again his brain felt fuzzy, eyes heavy, and he cursed, slowly realizing he’d fallen asleep. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes but he rose up on his knees and whistled, called for her, and Mishka was fucking _gone._

It wasn’t like her not to at least acknowledge his voice and he felt a sharp stab of panic through his chest as he gathered up his stuff, rolling the blanket into a ball and grabbing his hat.

The park wasn’t big, but it was big enough for her to get out of sight. And shitty enough for her to get _out_ if she tried. The real fear was knowing she was pretty enough for someone to fucking kidnap.

“Mishka!” he shouted, and gave another whistle. In the corner of his eye, fast as a bullet, he saw her dart around a tree and disappear again through some bushes after a little golden dog. It was her low to the ground, excited run and not her angry chase, at least. Aleks sighed with relief, followed quickly by frustration when he called for her again and she continued to ignore him for the little Corgi she’d apparently made friends with. Or was trying to make friends with. Who else would even come to this place so late at night, didn’t they know this place was smack dab in the middle of a gang war?

Aleks watched, holding in a little huff of a laugh, as the Corgi barreled right into the legs of a dude sitting on a nearby bench. She slipped underneath the seat then back out between his calves, as if expecting him to protect her, but the guy reached out towards Mishka instead, who stood in front of them both, her tail and entire ass wagging happily. She licked his hand and he scratched behind her ears until the Corgi got jealous enough to muscle her way between them unhappily with a snap in Mishka’s direction that had Aleks speeding up a little.

It was sort of cute. And Aleks wasn’t blind; the guy looked like he might be good-looking. That was a thing, wasn’t it? Meeting cute people in parks and exchanging numbers? Wasn’t that how regular people hooked up? He could do with some meaningless stress-relief right about now.

He approached, holding his big pink and blue blanket, and was almost halfway there when the guy fucking _spoke_ and _ruined everything._

Again.

The Corgi barked and snapped again, Mishka jumping back, and it was definitely _James’_ voice that said, “Jesus Christ, Ein, what the hell is wrong with you? Be nice to her. She’s trying to be your friend, you dumb shit, and you could use one ‘a those”.

James kept one hand on his dog, petting the top of her head, and reached out again to Mishka, who took a few steps forward and licked his fingertips.

“Good girl,” Aleks heard him say, and she moved even closer. “Don’t mind her, she’s a little slow. She gets excited. She hasn’t see a lot of other dogs in a while.”

Aleks held his blanket tighter. The sight of James almost touching Mishka made him jerk into action, calling for her and whistling again. Mishka acknowledged him finally, turning away from James and bounding over happily towards him, almost all the way, before she changed her mind and sprinted back to James’ dog, crawling under the bench and pushing her snout against the Corgi’s back.

“You gotta be kidding me, dude,” James said, sounding tired, and Aleks couldn’t agree more.

“This is my park.” Aleks wrinkled his nose up. “Dude, you’re trying to take my coffee shop, my territory, and now you’re after my _dog park_?”

“Listen, asshole,” James pointed accusingly, voice lifting oddly on the curse, “I was here when the damn park _opened_ , so you can fuck off with that shit if you wanna play firsties.”

His voice had started to raise toward the end of his excuse and Mishka and the Corgi both released gruff barks that made him fall quiet. Looks like they wouldn’t be allowed to yell at each other _here_ , either.

Aleks took a second to look James over, wondering if he had a gun on him even in a place like this. Geoff wouldn’t be around to stop him this time, but he wasn’t around to stop _Aleks_ either and Aleks had never needed a gun to take care of his problems before.

They’d seen each other around, but both of them had taken to avoiding each other whenever possible after the last café incident. Brett was taking James moving in pretty personally after the Lambos and Aleks was letting him handle _that_ problem so he could focus on dealing with the Christ Punchers crawling back to bother them again after their last ass kicking. Trust Rian to turn up while he was dealing with _Nova_ returning, too.

James looked as tired as Aleks felt, a thin scrape on his forehead and the fadings of a black eye Aleks couldn’t help but wonder about. Was it from his own crew? Or was James running into trouble with someone else, too?

“...look,” Aleks said finally, when they’d glared at each other in a tense silence long enough for Mishka and the Corgi to relax and start chasing each other again. He’d have to be the bigger man here, once again. “Look. It’s a big enough place for us both, _James_. Okay?”

“Fine by me, _Aleks_.” James snipped back, crossing his arms, “You’re the one making a big deal out of it.”

“I am _not_ -” Aleks started, irritating flaring and then dying down just as fast, “Fuck you. Whatever. Don’t even talk to me, dude, I’m done.”

With that, he snapped his blanket back out a few feet away, and settled back down to watch Mishka and the Corgi - Ein? Maybe? - chase each other.

“Go somewhere else,” James whined after maybe twenty whole seconds of silence, “You’re ruinin’ my calming atmosphere,”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aleks said back, mocking his tone, “This is where my dog is, so this is where I’m _staying._ ”

James huffed and futzed with his beanie a little, but didn’t say anything else. After giving Aleks a long, unhappy look, his attention went back to the dogs and he sprawled out a little on the bench. The sprawl just made him look _less_ comfortable, his body tense and left leg bouncing.

The dogs were barking and James called out for his, _Ein,_ for sure _,_ and Aleks made a note of it. Mishka and Ein. It was sort of annoying their dogs were getting along so well. Just about everything about this was annoying. His dog, his attitude, the way he was slowly making himself known in every fucking corner of Aleks’ life, but especially his messed up face. Aleks wasn’t curious by nature, but he wanted to _know_.

The silence that settled between them wasn’t comfortable but it _was_ somewhat easier than James trying to pull a gun on him. Aleks sighed thinking about it, looking at the side of James’ face and still feeling his own bruised ribs whenever he moved the wrong way. Maybe it was just…that fuckin’ kid in him, or maybe it was that he didn’t like not knowing what was going on in his own turf. Either way, he couldn’t help but push.

“What happened to your face?”

“I thought you said to shut the fuck up.” James’ didn’t look at him, but he didn’t seem to be looking at the dogs either. Aleks didn’t respond, just waited, and eventually James sighed. “Don’t worry about it, you nosy fuck. Nothing that won’t heal. It didn’t have shit to do with you.”

James didn’t ask about his crew and so Aleks didn’t offer any information, and another weird, not-quite-awkward silence settled between them. Hunched to rest his elbows on his knees, Aleks sat cross-legged on his blanket and watched Mishka roll around in the grass with, what he hated to admit, was probably the cutest goddamn Corgi he’d ever seen. It was weird to think of James - of _Nova_ \- as a dog owner. Ein the Corgi, who Aleks watched as she pressed the side of her face to the grass, looking up at Mishka with one big eye, then half-barked, half-growled, frightening both herself and Mishka.

She was kind of an idiot. And it was fucking _cute._ Years ago there was whispers, and Aleks had believed them, about James’ fabled pet crocodile. Stupid rumors that turned Ein the Corgi into a man-eating beast living in the basement of Nova’s old apartment building.

She booked it back towards James, spooked by her own outburst, and rolled to a stop between his feet with Mishka bounding after her. And Aleks didn’t want to notice the way James’ hands immediately shot down to comfort her, scratching behind her big ears and rubbing over her face, but he did, and it didn’t _mean_ anything, but it still made his stomach flip a little.

Mishka watched them for a moment, just as Aleks did, and then both of them seemed to catch themselves staring. Mishka looked away to Aleks and he looked at her, and she trotted over to collapse against his shins and rest in the shadows. It was a cool night, but she was still panting from the run.

Aleks wrapped his arms around his girl, talking to her softly, and it must have caught Ein’s attention because she wiggled her way over to him, pushing her nose up under his arm until he made room for her to half crawl into his lap.

James was watching, eyebrows up and drawn together, looking a lot like a man who just took a knife to the back.

“Hello, Ein,” he laughed and Mishka craned backwards to lick his face out of jealousy. “Hey.”

From the corner of his eye, Aleks could see James had turned completely towards them, and there was a guarded look on his face, somehow different than the one he was usually sporting.

“We can be civil in the stupid park with our stupid goddamn dogs. Like, neutral ground, okay?”

“Neutral,” James repeated, suspicious. “Like the Brew. No fighting in the coffee shop and no fighting in the park? Keep this up, we won’t be able to fight anywhere.”

It was an interesting thought, even though it was a bad joke, and Aleks forced himself not to dwell on it. What it would be like if they hadn’t gotten started on such a wrong fucking foot. If James was just a little reasonable. Or what it would feel like to have James’ gun pointed in the same direction as Aleks’ instead of his back.

“Guess we have to stop running into each other,” Aleks said, and gave both Mishka and Ein a little push to go back to playing. They took off running and Aleks swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes on them and not James.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said back, voice a little gruff with whatever he was feeling.

They didn’t say anything else, not until Aleks had to get back and James seemed ready to pass out in the cool air. They didn’t exactly walk to the entrance together, but they didn’t _not_ either.

They both pretended it didn’t happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Aleks wasn’t sure which was more annoying: that he’d had to personally scrub a Nova tag off his favorite fast food joint because he wasn’t gonna wait around for someone else to do it, or that he’d been dealing with the goddamn Christ Punchers _again_ for the last month.

“And _stay out!_ ” He yelled, hurling a pipe after the retreating forms of Rian and one of his lackeys. It hit the back tire of the lackey’s bike and she swerved hard but managed to correct herself.

“This isn’t over, Immortal!” Rian shouted back, barely audible over the sound of his bike, and then they were gone. Out of his _goddamn territory_ for at least another night.

“Fuckin’ - _shit_ , man,” Brett huffed, pressing his hand to the knife wound on his arm where the lackey had sliced him a little, “this is getting ridiculous. This is the fifth fucking time in the last two weeks, Aleks.”

The cut was bad but not deep, and Brett didn’t appear to be in much pain, so Aleks didn’t feel _too_ bad about shooting him a dirty look. He’d tossed his jacket during the scuffle and winced when he picked it up, brushing as much mud and rain water off as possible before putting it back on. At least it hadn’t been fucked up like Brett’s t-shirt.

“Yeah, dude, I’m aware,” he said, taking off his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “They fucking keyed my car, Brett, did you know that? My car. Who the fuck does that?”

“The kind of assholes who call themselves _Christ Punchers_.” Brett rolled his eyes. “Remember when they used to sort of leave us alone? That was nice.”

“They’re multiplying.”

“Once you see the first roach you’re already infested.” Brett looked at his bloody hand with a grimace, then wiped it on the thigh of his pants. “There’s not enough of us.”

“I know.”

“Keeping all this has always been harder than taking it, and between holding ground against Nova and these dickheads pushing in again… It’s only the fucking four of us, man. We can’t fight on all these fronts.”

“I fucking _know_ , Brett. I know.”

Brett stopped walking and it was a few more steps before Aleks stopped, too. God, he and Brett couldn’t seem to stop having awkward talks in the dark of Los Santos whilst stopped in the middle of sidewalks. It was becoming somewhat of a tradition.

He didn’t turn around. Anger and frustration was rolling off Brett in waves and if he could avoid looking at it directly, he would. Brett wanted to hear a solution and Aleks still didn’t fucking have one, no matter how much time he spent staring at his bedroom ceiling thinking about it.

“Cool. You know. When do you want to fucking talk about it like an adult instead of just skateboarding off into the night.”

 _Never_ , Aleks thought. He wanted to ignore everything until it went away. The Christ Punchers and Nova and the weird, nagging feeling in his fucking gut that kept him on edge all the time.

“What’s there to talk about?” he finally settled on, scuffing his shoe against the concrete. He’d escaped uninjured this time, but the ache in his ribs from their last brush with the Christ Punchers was still bothering him. “We can’t exactly expand the crew now. Not with a rock in front of us and a hard place behind us.”

“We have to do _something_ ,” Brett rubbed his face, looking tired and drawn under a street lamp. The sun had set sometime around when Aleks had been taking a pipe to Rian’s lackey and the night had settled in since they started their walk of barely-victory back to his apartment. “I know you don’t like the idea, but if we just gave up the ground up to Sixth and Dixon -”

“No.” Aleks cut him off, sharper than intended. “We aren’t giving shit up. Not to Nova, not to the goddamn _Christ Punchers_. Not to anyone. That’s our ground.”

“Not for much fucking longer, at this rate!” Brett hurled back. “We don’t have the manpower to fight on two fronts.”

“I _know_ , Brett!” Aleks shouted, and it echoed around the empty street. Brett didn’t say anything back, but he didn’t have to. Standing under that streetlight, arms crossed, dark eyes narrowed and glaring angrily, he cut enough of a figure for Aleks to nearly wilt under the disappointment.

“I know, Brett.” he said again, calmer. “Just. Just give me a day or two. I’ll figure something out.”

“How?” Brett demanded, and shook his head when Aleks stayed quiet. “Fuckin’, whatever, dude. I know you don’t want to give up Dixon, but if it’s a choice between us and a couple blocks, you know what we have to pick.”

“We won’t have to give up Dixon,” Aleks twisted his hat in his hands, probably bending the bill all out of place, but it was used to the abuse by this point. “I’ll figure something out. ”

“Yep, all on your own.” Brett sighed, then, after a moment, finally agreed, “…I’ll give you the week, and then we talk retreat. Fortify what we can keep, let CP and Nova work out what they want with Dixon, then take out whoever wins. Okay?”

“Just gimme the week,” Aleks mumbled, “I’ll come through, dude. We won’t lose Dixon.”

“Is this about -” Brett started, like he was gonna air Aleks’ dirty laundry all over the damn street, so Aleks cleared his throat loud enough to interrupt. “…Yeah, fine. The week, Aleks. I’m serious.”

The rest of the walk was quiet and tense. It had been that way between them for awhile now, since things had started to heat up. He didn’t take it personal; things with Brett always got tense when there was a lot of pressure. Even Lindsey had to tell him to back off sometimes. Still, it didn’t make things easier. It wasn’t just the Lambo deal falling through anymore, it was so much all at once.

They split up at his place, Aleks up the stairs and Brett to his car, and Aleks found himself in bed an hour later, staring at his ceiling all over again and desperately trying to think of _something_.

It came to him just as he was drifting off. _We can’t fight on two fronts_.

Aleks just had to make it one.

-

Aleks had looked at his watch approximately every three minutes since arriving at the park. Every three minutes for over an hour, until the sun began to set orange and hot pink as it swooped down the touch the horizon. Mishka curled up on the grass beside the bench he was sitting on twenty minutes ago, exhausted by the dog run and content enough with the rare cool breeze to abandon the tennis ball she’d left by his foot.

A lot of Los Santos was a shithole but not _ever_ when he looked at it like this. Tall buildings towered over everything else, the sun lighting them up white and sparkling yellow, windows reflecting off each other like mirrors until everything felt awash in gold. Until even Aleks felt like he shone by it. At least that’s how it felt from a distance.

It was nice to have this moment. He even had an excuse for why he’d spent so long sitting here, a reason that meant he could just sit back and enjoy the view of the city. Sometimes he could forget, when it felt like nothing but cold rain and cement buildings and shifty eyes, why he did what he did. But then he’d sit in the park and listen to people and their dogs and feel the mirrored sunlight on his skin and remember.

He checked his watch again. He’d never tried to purposefully force a meeting like this, especially since things between James and Brett had started to heat up, but he had a plan and he wanted it to work. So he reclined on the bench and listened to Mishka snore from her little bed of grass and leaves, enjoying the chance to relax a little, and waited.

He only knew James would probably show up because he was observant, even when he didn’t want to be. Everyone was a creature of habit in some way and the chances were still good he was right about James, although it was getting late and maybe he was just as tired of them running into each other as Aleks. Maybe he switched to the mornings. Maybe he gave in and just switched fucking parks so he wouldn’t have to see Aleks’ face anymore. Aleks had been too busy to come recently, so it was all just that. A _maybe_.

Some of Aleks’ best and worst ideas had come to him half-asleep in the middle of the night, and there was no telling yet which this was but it was worth a shot. Before any of those asshole Christ Punchers went after Trevor or Lindsey or a goddamn civilian. Mishka rolled onto her back, wiggling in the grass, and Aleks checked his watch again just as the lampposts came to life. Twelve more minutes and he’d call it a wash. He already felt pathetic enough sitting around waiting for someone who probably, definitely at this point, wasn’t coming.

He’d have to try getting him alone if they ran into each other again at _The AH Brew_ , which seemed likely, because at least when it came to grabbing cups of coffee they literally seemed unable to stop meeting.

With three minutes left, Mishka jumped to her feet, ears up and tail wagging, and Aleks’ heart sped up before he even got a glimpse of the little Corgi bolting through the bushes and high grass. Mishka cast him a quick glance before bounding forward to meet the little round fur ball, and when Ein pounced for her Mishka flopped onto her back and let her bite playfully at her neck. Aleks watched them, acutely annoyed for no reason, before the deceptively unassuming shape of Nova appeared from around the pathway.

He had his hood up but Aleks could see little curly flyaway hairs sticking out and falling around his face. He looked tired. He was wearing _basketball shorts_. If Aleks didn’t know his gait and the shape of his face and just how the air changed when he was around, he might not have recognized him. Which might have been the point.

He saw Ein and Mishka play fighting first and then his head snapped towards Aleks, eyes sharp and bright even in the quickly diminishing light.

Nova didn’t say anything, he just sighed, looking like he was just too fucking exhausted to deal with Aleks’ shit. Aleks didn’t bother feeling anything about that, because he could fucking relate. And if he was annoyed about Aleks seeing him like this, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, it didn’t show.

“Hey.”

There was a long moment where James just looked at him, before he said, “You’re fucking everywhere.”

Aleks let it roll off him. He couldn’t fight with James tonight, he _needed_ something from him, and everything he knew about Nova suggested it wouldn’t be easy to get it.

“Big city, small neighborhood.” He shrugged, then nodded towards their dogs, chasing each other in circles, “You wanna sit?”

“No, not really,” James said sharply, but he stomped over like a fucking brat, and sat his ass down as far away as he could on the bench from Aleks.

In a perfect world, Aleks wouldn’t have any fucking _thoughts_ , but nothing was perfect, and sitting next to Nova in a park as the sun gave its last heat and bursts of color for the day, was… _something_.

“That makes two of us,” Aleks crossed his arms, keeping his eyes pinned to the dogs playing. Ein was small and cute but she was kind of a bully and Mishka a pushover. It was a good excuse to not have to look at James.

The silence settled over them hard. Most silences, in Aleks’ experience, were fragile. A cough could shattered them. This one felt like a marching band couldn't cut through it.

Unluckily for him, this wasn't a visit where he could quietly pretend they were different people. He spent a few minutes gearing up, rebuilding the composure he’d lost when James had sat on the bench.

“So,” he finally spoke up, “you and, uh. You and Brett are having fun.”

“He tacked my tires and narc'ed on one of my deals,” James said dully. “If I catch him on the street, I'm gonna gut him like a guppy, Aleksandr.”

“Oh.” Aleks nodded along and remembered enough about Nova to know that it wasn’t an idle threat. That would have been a sick story to hear in high school, but it made his stomach twist to imagine it happening to Brett. “Well, speaking of your crew and mine interacting -”

“Finally,” James muttered and then rolled his eyes at Aleks’ look, “The _point_. You've been staking the bench out for over an hour. I came twice before I finally gave up. What the fuck do you want?”

Aleks had a choice here: he could bring up his idea, or he could go off on James avoiding him like a bitch, or he could curse himself out for not paying more attention. James had probably spotted him while he was checking his watch.

With every ounce of will power in his body, he did not needle the vaguely irritated bastard next to him. Instead, he stuck to his original goal and offered an olive branch.

“I hear we’re both dealing with a pest problem.”

James side-eyed him.

“Maybe. What about it?”

By his count, James had roughly the same amount of boots on the ground as he did. And yeah, as evident when he snatched the Lamborghinis out from under him with Farid without even showing up, people remembered Nova. Respected him. But Aleks hadn’t been sitting on his hands all these years. He knew people too and even with those resources, if his crew was still having problems wrangling the Christ Punchers he felt sure Nova’s was too. They had probably been what had bruised his face all up last month.

The key would be getting him to put a hold on being an insufferable prick long enough to see reason.

“Look, man, you don’t have to make this hard.”

James turned to face him full on, throwing Aleks the same kind of knowing look he had the first time in the coffee shop when he’d called himself daddy. Fucking _innuendo_.

“Stop,” Aleks said and refused to look away, “I’m being serious, shithead. I really don’t want to admit it, but we can’t fucking get rid of them on our own. And I’m betting you can’t either or you would'a already.”

James shoved a hand under his hood to scratch his head then pressed the same fingers to his temple like he was trying to stave off a headache. Aleks almost wished he was still looking at him, just so he could get a read off his face, but his attention was back on the dogs. A quiet settled over them again, the only movement between them Aleks’ bouncing leg, before James sucked on his teeth and sighed.

“I don’t want to.”

“You think I do?”

“Maybe,” James said without missing a beat. “Doesn’t matter. They might be fucking with you but this ain’t your fight, it’s mine. I’m not interested in any _with our powers combined_ bullshit.”

Barely managing to suppress a surprised laugh - Jesus, Nova making _Captain Planet_ references - Aleks shifted towards him, closing the space between them a little, and drawing James’ attention back to him fully.

“It _is_ my fight, motherfucker. Who do you think kept them at bay all this time?” _It wasn’t you_ was on the tip of his tongue, but Aleks bit it back. Bringing up his running was a terrible idea if he wanted to get anywhere.

“Can’t now though?” James shot back, and it was snotty and condescending and Aleks wanted to crack him in the mouth.

“Because I’m busy with _you_ ,” Aleks said, and held up his hand before James could give him another look. “We’re busy with fucking you and your guys with all this petty shit. We’re stretched too thin and so are you.”

James made an unhappy noise but stayed quiet, for once, and they both looked back at the dogs for a moment when Ein barked, letting the truth of what Aleks had said settle between them.

“Look, I’m not saying we become buddies. I’m not asking for fucking - fucking friendship bracelets and matching tattoos. Just - a truce. Until we deal with the trash. And then we can go back to, I don’t know, whatever this is, trying to kill each other.”

There was something on James’ face Aleks wished he could understand, but he was unreadable, and it was dark, and suddenly he felt stupid for all of this: for waiting for him to show up. For asking. For thinking he could reason with someone who was famously stubborn and _hated him_.

The next silence lasted a lot longer. Aleks leaned back against the bench, but didn’t move away. The conversation wasn’t over, so he waited for whatever it was stewing in James’ stupid head to come out of his mouth. No trace of the day was left and the darkness seemed like it was pushing against the soft light from the lampposts, wanting to eat it up. It made him feel claustrophobic for some reason - the night, the quiet between them, even how Ein and Mishka had stopped playing and were just lying next to each other in the grass.

Sudden movement from James nearly startled him, but before Aleks could knee-jerk reach for his gun, he watched as he pulled off his hood. And continued watching, strangely uncomfortable for no reason he wanted to look at too closely, as James let his hair out of the sloppy bun it was in. “Look,” James said, and Aleks _was,_ as he pulled his hair back up tighter and neater and more like how he usually looked.

“Look, this is _personal._ Whatever the fuck you’ve been doing with them since I left, I don’t give a shit. They’re doing this _now_ because I’m here, not because you’re here, and I want you to stay the fuck out of it.”

“I don’t _care_ what you want,” Aleks snapped back, flustered by the _hair_ and the night and the body heat he could feel off James even sitting so far apart, by their goddamn dogs cuddled up together in the park, “They _stabbed Brett_ last night and nearly broke my ribs a couple days before that. They’re not here for you, they’re here for my ground. _My_ ground, Nova. Maybe they’re being assholes because you showed your face again, but they’ve been collecting old Hub land like it’s goddamn Monopoly and you’re making it real fucking hard for me to keep my square safe so -”

“I get it,” James cut him off, “Dude, shut up, Jesus, I get it.”

“Do you?” Aleks clenched his fists tight, “Do you, really? Maybe it’s hard for big, powerful _Nova_ to remember what it’s like to fight off stronger crews, but I’ve been doing it for two goddamn years and I’d still be doing it now perfectly fine if not for you. So can you just fuckin’ hook up with us for one fuckin’ week so we can take care of the goddamn Christ Punchers?”

“We don’t need to _hook up_ ,” James turned to glare at him and their eyes met for what kind of felt like the first time since James had finally approached him, dark brown to dark brown, and Aleks could read the anger in the irises, the irritation that he would _bring it up_. “I’m taking care of it.”

“Oh, good, I guess I don’t need to worry then,” Aleks huffed, “Yeah, trusting you always worked out for us, didn’t it?”

He regretted it almost before it was out of his mouth, a low shot and one that hit home judging by the dark look that shifted over James’ features.

“In three days,” James stood up, “You won’t have to worry about the Christ Punchers.” He whistled and Ein hopped up, trotted over looking excited, if tired, “Then you’ll just have to watch out for me.”

“I’m so scared,” Aleks faked a shiver, “You’ve got me shaking in my boots, motherfucker.”

James didn’t respond, just hooked a leash through Ein’s collar and started to walk away.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he called over his shoulder, “Daddy’ll take care of the mean old roaches. You just sit back and put your feet up.”

“Fuck you,” Aleks shouted back and watched him go, refusing to think about any of the feelings welling up in him. There was disappointment, embarrassment, the slightest twinge of fear at the thought of _Nova_ actually putting the full brunt of his might against Aleks’ strong, but relatively low-action crew.

There was something darker, warmer. Something that preened a little bit at James calling him _baby_.

He whistled for Mishka and stood up, shaking the night off his shoulders the best he could as she padded to his side.

-

“Before we get there, I just want to say,” Brett slammed on the brake of the Aleks’ beater, a 1998 Honda Accord, and turned the wheel hard as they banked around the corner, then pressed the gas pedal to the floor, “this is a very stupid idea.”

“Thanks, you’ve fucking mentioned it.”

Aleks was shrugging out of his jacket and tossed it back to Trevor, who rolled it up and tucked it under the driver’s seat. The car hit a bump and bounced, almost bottoming out as it hit the asphalt, and Lindsey gripped onto Aleks’ headrest to steady herself. It was, probably, a bad idea. But he’d never give Brett the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Worth repeating. You’re dropping -”

“Why are you driving, Brett? This is my car. Why are you always fucking driving?”

Brett swerved around red light traffic onto the other side of the street, blew the light, then jerked the sedan back onto the right side of the road. “Because who’d drop all the bullets if you’re driving? Someone has to.”

“Can you turn down the radio?” Trevor said, tapping on Aleks’ shoulder. “We can barely hear you bickering.”

“I swear to God, Trevor, I’ll shoot you.”

“He’s going to throw the floor bullets at you.”

“Goddamn it, Brett.” Aleks turned the radio down until it was Beastie Boys free and slammed the fist holding his half-assembled gun on the dashboard. “You agreed this was the best plan of action, why are you being such a dick? If they take out Nova we’re _fucked_ , you realize that, right? It’ll be open season on our sorry asses. The whole city -”

“What’s he got on you? Find your diary or something? You didn’t even give him a chance to ask you to jump.”

“And we’re jumping pretty high,” Lindsey said and Aleks twitched, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Lot of fall damage if this goes south.”

“It _won’t_.” Aleks shoved his seat back as far as it would go and started to snatch wayward bullets off the ground. He’d only dropped a _handful_ , fuck you, Brett, but with how jerky the driving - and driver - was, it was a little difficult to collect them all as he tried to yell at his crew bent double, “We’ll outnumber them fuckin’ - two to one, or something, so just fuckin’ - just, just go with it, just go with it and chase them out for at least another couple months.”

“This is why you don’t announce shit to the room, Trev,” Brett grumbled, swerving the steering wheel again and sending them all leaning dangerously to the left. “Because you say _oh, I heard Nova’s got something going on_ , like you’ve forgotten Aleks is down to blow him at any second, and now we’ve packed up the whole damn family to go make sure his sorry ass isn’t dying -”

“If Nova dies, _then the entire city will come for us_ , oh my _God!_ ” Aleks shouted, finally grabbing the last bullet and stuffing it back into the box, “It was bad enough before, when everyone just _thought_ he was dead! It’s gonna be a goddamn - fuckin’, a goddamn bloodbath if they get confirmation that the stupid _Christ Punchers_ killed him!”

“Sure, man, just keep telling yourself that _that’s_ why we’re speeding to the warehouse district.” Brett slammed on the brakes to avoid a semi and then went zero to sixty again to get around it, take an exit, and then a sharp left as he made his way to their destination. Trevor’s intel placed Nova and his crew and the Christ Punchers in an old warehouse close to the pier, seldom used for much more than for purposes exactly like this one.

When James had said he’d be taking care of them in three days, Aleks hadn’t thought he’d meant _call them out to a warehouse for an old-fashioned shootout_ , but that was on him for forgetting that Nova was the quintessential gangster, up to and including the occasional pinstripe suit when he shook down a certain kinda people.

Instead of continuing to participate in Brett’s bitch fit, he closed the box of bullets and turned around in his seat to hand them off to Trevor.

“Remember,” he said firmly over Brett’s fuckin’ whining, “you stay in the back. You keep your head on and your eyes open, you duck and only shoot when you’re sure you have the shot. Stay down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trevor scoffed, taking the box delicately. This would only be his second or third firefight, if there was even a firefight to be involved in, and Aleks could admit he was a little worried about him.

“No advice for me?” Lindsey asked, and there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth that, somehow, made Aleks feel a little better about the entire clusterfuck he was getting them into. Lindsey was game. They bitched and moaned, but they had his back, and he would’ve hugged her if he had the time.

“Aim for their heads?”

“Like you have to tell me that,” she sighed, feigning disappointment. “People’s faces are the parts I dislike the most. Sometimes they say just the darndest, stupidest, uncalled for things.”

“Is this a thinly veiled comment about me?” Brett asked.

“It’s not very thin or veiled,” Trevor said and puffed out his cheeks. “Kinda straightforward.”

Lindsey’s eyes were soft on Brett and that twisted something inside Aleks too. Caring about someone like that but heading towards the place where guns were firing and not _away_ from it. He’d complained about the vests when Lindsey insisted they wear them but he was glad for it now.

Just as they came up to a spot about four lots down from the warehouse and Brett slammed hard on the brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt stop, Lindsey reached forward and pressed her hands over Aleks’ ears and said, “Brett, don’t talk to me or my son ever again.”

“God, we are their parents. Okay, kids, we’re here. Everyone grab your backpacks and lunch bags. We packed treats.”

The warehouse was quiet, really, really quiet, and as Aleks suited up - guns, extra clips, and as many knives as he could carry - he could feel his nerves settle. It was always like that beforehand. The stillness right before shit went down. Calm before a storm. And he tried not to think they were too late. Didn’t want to think of what could be waiting inside there for them.

But he thought of it anyway. Thought of James lying in a pile of blood as bright red as his tattoos. Thought of what would come for them after if it were true.

“Stay in the back, stay low,” he said to Trevor again. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Trevor smiled at him, tight-lipped and unhappy but _with him._ “Don’t worry, man. Mom and dad’ll watch out for me.”

Aleks huffed out a laugh, took Trevor’s gun to check it over quickly, and uselessly, just to do it, then handed it back.

“Yeah, well,” Aleks straightened Trevor’s vest out and then his own, “Dad won’t be watching my back right now so -”

Brett slapped the back of his head before he could keep talking, making an annoyed noise.

“Shut the fuck up, of course I’m watching your back. Idiot. If I wasn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

Aleks pulled a face at him but there was relief at the back of his mind. Having Lindsey and Trevor at his side was important, he wouldn’t want to go anywhere without them - but knowing Brett was with him, even if he didn’t like it, was a different kind of relief. A solid base.

“Okay, kids,” Brett checked his own gun, “Lets-”

He was interrupted by a gunshot, loud and echoing from within the warehouse, and Aleks went from vaguely worried to moving without much thought.

“Aleks,” Lindsey hissed after him, but his gun was drawn and assembled and his vest was on, and _Nova_ was somewhere in that warehouse and nothing was going to keep him out of it now.

He found a side entrance relatively fast, a small door that was closer to his waist than his head, probably meant to be a place for boxes or small goods to be shoved quickly from inside to out, and ducked through with a signal behind him for his crew to wait. He wanted to scope the place before he pulled them in.

They’d parked the car far enough from the warehouse that the engine wouldn’t give them away, but it had meant that, aside from something like a fucking gunshot, they wouldn’t be hearing anything going on inside. Within the walls, though, in the shadows cast by machines long in disuse and crates full of what he was sure was rotten product at this point, he could hear plenty.

“You’re down two hands, Nova!” a voice, Rian, was shouting, “And the bullet outline of Jax tells me your third isn’t exactly a catch! Just give up now and maybe, just maybe, we’ll let you live.”

“I gave you your warning,” James responded, not triumphant like Rian but not defeated or worried, either. Just kinda calm - almost bland. It made Aleks shiver.

Still, something about what Rian had said made him take a second and realign himself. He’d had eyes for Nova or Rian and hadn’t bothered sweeping for anyone else from his disadvantages post on the floor of a two story warehouse, and he hadn’t spotted either of them. Now, he looked harder, edging along the wall.

The first shadow he saw made his breath catch in his throat, laying still and silent on the floor, a telling pool of darkness surrounding it. It wasn’t light enough to make out the crimson, but Aleks was familiar enough with the stench. He was preparing himself to see Asher, or maybe one of the other members of James’ crew - he’d never seen them himself, but Trevor had mentioned a small women and a friendly looking guy.

When he knelt and slowly tilted the face, it took a moment through the gloom, but he recognized him as one of Rian’s lackeys. The loud one that liked to run down bikers on the back roads.

He didn’t sigh in relief or anything, he wouldn’t have cared if it _was_ one of Nova’s, but at least it confirmed that Rian was down a man, too. He motioned and Brett came to his side, silent as death, and he knew Trevor and Lindsey were taking the opposite direction. He kept his breathing steady, stayed low, and kept to the wall as he walked.

Rian shouted a few more mocking threats, trying to get Nova angry enough to react, but all it did was give away his own position: hiding behind a small stack of broken up crates. Aleks could see the toe of his boot from where he and Brett were walking, knew that Lindsey and Trevor were going to be in the most danger since they would be passing right behind him but probably wouldn’t be able to get a good shot with all the debris.

He couldn’t worry about them, though, and he trusted that Lindsey would watch out for Trevor.

He and Brett nearly tripped over the guy when they found him. Dark haired and pale but for the twisted skin of a messy scar across the left side of his face, eyes so wide that Aleks could see what little light there was reflecting in them even without seeing him face to face. He was kneeling behind the disconnected arm of a crane, gun trained on the crates where Rian was hiding and stiff as a board. With that posture and the unsure way he was holding the weapon, Aleks had a feeling this was that third pair of hands Rian had mentioned being particularly useless.

With Brett watching his back, he crouched low and approached quietly, wrapped a hand around the guy’s face to cover his mouth at the same time that he pressed the muzzle of his gun to his spine.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, nearly so quiet that he wasn’t making any noise at all. “Nod if you’re one of Rian’s guys.”

The man, slowly, shook his head.

“Nova’s?”

He nodded, just as slow.

“Don’t make a fuckin’ sound,” Aleks warned, “Or I’ll put a bullet right through your back.”

He dropped his hand. The man inhaled sharply but didn’t yell. Aleks could see his hands shaking where they held the gun, still trained firm on Rian’s hiding spot.

“Name?”

“Joe,” the guy said, soft, “I’m -”

“Shut up,” Aleks cut him off, “I’m asking the questions, you’re answering. Is Nova out there?”

Joe nodded again, silent, not turning around.

“You know where?”

He shook his head.

“He said you were two down. They dead?”

“Anna’s at home,” Joe answered quietly, “Asher’s down. Are you that crew? The Immortals?”

“…yeah,” Aleks decided to admit, “Nova said he had this handled, but I figured I’d stop by to make sure he didn’t drop the ball. Good thinking on my part, huh?”

“We took two of them out,” Joe said instead of responding to his mocking, “well, James did, mostly. Asher took one, but he got knocked down, too. Neither of us could get to him, he’s behind,” he motioned with one hand, not taking the gun from the crates, “enemy lines or whatever.”

“Yeah, okay.” Aleks checked his gun again one last time, just to make sure. “Hundar, stick with Joe here, yeah? Watch my back. Don’t let him shoot me. Actually, for fuck’s sake, get that gun out of this dude’s hands,”

“Good call,” Brett agreed, dropping in next to Joe and aiming his own gun at the crate. Joe, carefully, set his down with what looked to be tremendous relief.

“You know how many are left?” Aleks asked and waited for Joe to shake his hands out.

“I think there were six of them. Four left, then,”

Aleks did a quick count in his head. They had Rian’s crew outnumbered, but only by one. Not the odds he’d been hoping for, but nothing terrible, either.

“Good man,” he patted Joe’s back, “Don’t shoot anyone, thanks.”

And then he was brushing past Brett to scurry behind a different stack of crates and machinery. The warehouse had obviously become a dumping ground over the last few years, broken machines like the crane arm or the skeletal remains of what was maybe some sort of tractor taking up space that wasn’t filled by broken crates or fully-functional ones that had probably long been either rotted through or picked for valuables. A death trap playground for some, the perfect battleground for a firefight for others. Aleks kind of wished he’d been able to take the first option.

Sadly, that was not to be. He still couldn’t find Nova, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try calling out for him and alerting Rian to his presence, so he just kept his eyes peeled and squat-walked along his hiding spot.

Another gunshot ricocheted through the warehouse, somewhere to his left, and he - against his base instincts - went toward it. His gut feeling was right and, moments later, he found himself facing the back of a leather-vest wearing muscle head not paying attention to his backside because all of his focus was on a tiny little corner where Aleks could make out a shadow he was _sure_ was Trevor.

Hesitation was a killer in his world, so he didn’t invite it into his actions. He saw, he analyzed, he understood, and he slipped forward and wrapped an arm around the man’s neck, elbow under the chin, and grappled the gun in his hand up. The man yelled, but it was wispy, barely a sound able to escape through Aleks’ iron grip on his neck. He tried to reach behind him with the gun, but Aleks’ other hand was just as firm and he was able to keep it pointed away, not toward Trevor but upward, toward the ceiling. Strangling wasn’t his first choice, but he wasn’t _bad_ at it either, and it tended to do the job when it had to. He tried to avoid spilling blood when he could - murder was always something that felt like a stain, something he couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard he tried. Call him a boy scout, but he usually liked to handle things a tiny bit more diplomatically when possible - as diplomatic as strangling someone until they lost their grip on their gun and went limp could be. The man wasn’t unconscious, but Aleks didn’t need him to be. He just needed his gun, which he plucked from limp fingers and then skidded away from them and started the tedious process of dragging the man back toward Brett and Joe.

They weren’t too far back, he’d only continued a couple yards, but Brett didn’t look surprised to see him.

“New job, Joe.” Aleks shoved the man, still reeling and weak from his suffocation, to the ground at their feet. “Point your gun at him, instead. If he tries to get away, shoot him. Right here.”

Aleks tapped the spot between the man’s eyes and Joe didn’t look happy about it but he pressed the muzzle of his gun to the man’s head without question.

Hebel was going to need to talk to Nova about filling his crew with high school kids and guys who trusted people just because they told him they were kinda friendly this go around. Or maybe he wouldn’t. It would make toppling this little crew a lot easier if Nova didn’t actually have a functional one.

Plus, dying would serve that little twerp Asher right for sniping his goddamn Lambos.

He returned, slow and patient, to his perch after leaving the lackey with Brett and Joe, and continued his circle of the warehouse, keeping to the floor, his feet quiet, working his way inward. He ran into Lindsey at one point, her own lackey firmly in hand, and they air high-fived because a real one would have been loud, and then he continued on until finally, _finally_ , he spotted Nova.

He was across what felt like a clearing for how little cover was offered despite the abundance of piles around it. If Aleks had to guess, it was a rough boxing ring for illegal fights, but that wasn’t none of his business as long as he got his cut for running the shows in his backyard.

When he found him, it was because the weak light of the street lamps above the warehouse and floating in through the mostly-missing roof glinted off his gun and directly into Aleks’ goddamn eye.

He scrubbed at his face, a soundless whine of pain all he could allow himself, and when he looked to find the cause, it was to James’ glaring face.

Not quite sure what to do, Aleks waved.

The next minute consisted of a mimed conversation between the two of them from across a warehouse boxing ring and by the light of five weak streetlamps outside.

 _What are you doing here_ , James demanded with an aggressive wave at Aleks and then a sharp finger pointing down at the ground.

 _We heard you were getting slaughtered_ , Aleks responded by pointing at his ear and then at James and then sliding his finger across his throat in the universal sign of _you’re getting murdered, bro_.

 _Go away_ , James said with a wave of his hand

 _Fuck you_ , Aleks said with the bird.

 _Fine, but we’re talking about this later_ , James gave in with a roll of his eyes and a responding middle finger.

He motioned in a circle with two fingers, what Aleks was pretty sure meant he wanted to do a pincer maneuver and pointed to the crate pile where Rian was hiding. He’d been calling threats that Aleks had been tuning out for the last few minutes but had finally gone silent sometime around when James had been telling him to go away.

He nodded and then held up three fingers. He lowered each one in time and, when the third was dropped, they both ducked back down and Aleks started to make his way toward where Rian was hiding.

Aleks would savor the look of triumph melting off Rian’s face to be replaced with sick realization for the rest of his life, he was sure. He was crouched, had had his own gun pointed at where James had emerged, but Aleks had stepped out behind him first with an “Oh, hey, bitch,” that had kept him frozen when James had stepped into view.

“Aleks,” Rian said in greeting, “Nice to see you again. Ribs doing well, I hope.”

“Better, thanks,” Aleks agreed, “How’s the whole _taking over Immortal turf_ thing going?”

“I’ll admit, not well.” Rian did, indeed, admit.

“Enough.” James cocked his gun. “Stand up.”

“I’d do what he says,” Aleks whispered, “We’ve all heard what Nova does to people who don’t listen.”

“Hardy Har,” James sneered, and Rian stood up.

“Come on out, guys and gals,” Aleks shouted and only smiled when James turned a dark glare on him. “Shut up, dude, I actually know what I’m doing. My crew, unlike yours, can handle a fight. A stupid fight, but they can handle it, nonetheless.”

And his crew proved it - God, he was so proud of them, he was going to be able to rub this in both Rian _and_ James’ face for the rest of his goddamn life - by appearing, Joe and Brett with the lackey Aleks had brought them and Lindsey with the other two.

“Where’s Trev?” he asked casually, not bothering to drop his gun off Rian in case James wanted to make some sort of stupid speech or something without telling him. He’d never actually witnessed Nova in a _gun_ fight before; he wasn’t sure what, exactly, his routine was when he rubbed it in the face of his enemies that he was better than them.

“He found the guy,” Lindsey motioned, her two favorite guns to both of her captives, “Dragged him outta here. He’s taking him to the Kingpin’s guy, you know? So the family car is gone. Khail’s sending us a pick up.”

“You _kidnapped_ my injured crewmate?” James bellowed.

“Did my guy _rescue_ your probably-dying high school student? Yeah, sounds like it. You’re _welcome_ , fuckface,”

James just pulled another face and Aleks didn’t push anymore. James was… he looked… different. Not _off_ , but not like he usually did, either. Aleks couldn’t place it and he didn’t want to test it. Not _too_ much, at least.

“Go.” James shoved at Rian with his gun. “On your knees with your shitty fucking bike gang.”

Aleks took a step back as the scene came together in front of him. Lindsey and Brett had both brought their guys to the ground and backed away too, guns still out but with no intention to do shit with them. And James lined the crew up shoulder to shoulder, still on their knees, and had the same weirdly distant look on his face from their last meeting in the park. He was thinking, but it felt different this time.

Everything felt different. Heavier. Aleks hadn’t realized how light their interactions were before this. James’ jaw was locked so tight the tension was visible along his neck and into his shoulders. The guy in basketball shorts walking his dog wasn’t there and Aleks was no longer sure if he actually existed. It was difficult to picture him with _this_ James in front of him.

He looked from Rian over to his guy, Joe. Joe looked _upset_ , which wasn't the usual kind of feeling Aleks was used to seeing post-win, but who was he to question?

Then, for some reason, James’ eyes found Aleks again and settled on him until it was uncomfortable. It seemed like maybe James wasn’t actually seeing him. And Nova looking right through him wasn’t something Aleks expected at all, but it was familiar, and made him feel like a kid.

“Couple of months and we’ll be back. You know the drill, right, Aleks? Tell Nova here how it works now, what kinda game you’re playing now. He was gone for _so long_ , like the little bitch he is, he doesn’t-”

It was a goddamn reflex and even as he was moving Aleks had no idea _why_. But it felt good to bring the butt of his gun down against Rian’s ugly fucking face, to watch him keel over, blood gushing from his nose and the pretty deep spilt on his upper lip. It was satisfying in a way he missed. It had been a long time since someone talked shit about Nova in front of him. A long time since he’d had to remind people not to be disrespectful.

He tried not to feel a rush of embarrassment as he grabbed Rian by the jacket and manhandled him back onto his knees. James was watching him, he could feel it, with such intensity it made the hair at the back of his neck stand. Rian hadn’t said anything Aleks himself didn’t throw in James’ face at every opportunity that wouldn't lead to his own shanking, but it wasn’t the same.

It just fucking wasn’t.

Rian laughed and it bubbled out of his open mouth, blood sliding over his teeth and lip and down his neck. “Still doing that, huh? Thought you would’a let it go when he-”

Aleks hit him again. It was a sloppy punch with his left hand, probably hurt him more than it hurt Rian, but it shut him the fuck up. It was good enough.

With all the defiance he could muster Aleks forced himself to look at James - at Nova - and if he was expecting him to look confused by what had just happened, he wasn’t. He was only watching with sharp eyes, and Aleks had the impression he was just filing it away for later. There were more important things happening but he hadn’t missed a thing.

Brett’s phone rang before anything else could be said. The sound of it vibrating was loud even over Rian’s gurgling and Brett answered it cheerfully, tapping the barrel of his gun against his own head. “You’ve reached Hundar’s Deep Well of Regrets, how may I direct your call?”

He mouthed _Khail_ and waved his gun around in a way that Aleks knew meant, _gosh, he can yap can’t he?_

“Keep him on the phone,” Nova said - no, _ordered_ Brett _._ Aleks saw Brett’s face go dark, his hand tighten around his gun, but Nova turned away and his demeanor changed so suddenly it silenced Brett. “I need you to go outside, Joe.”

“James, come on.”

“Ten minutes,” he said, and he sounded… Aleks couldn’t think of any other way to describe it than he sounded like James and not Nova. “Please, okay? Ten minutes.”

None of them were particularly happy with what was fucking happening but Joe looked especially miserable. He stared at James for a long few seconds, searching for something, then pursed his lips, looking away and nodding. It was weird. And just like James had been watching him and Rian, Aleks found himself watching James and Joe.

“You don't have to do this,” he said quietly, grabbing James shoulder as he passed, squeezed lightly before letting him go.

James just pressed his lips together.

Aleks exchanged looks with Brett and Lindsey. Whatever the fuck was going on with Nova’s crew was getting more confusing by the second. As soon as Joe was gone Nova was back, sucking all the air from the room, his presence so big Aleks had to stubbornly plant his feet to prevent himself from taking another step back.

James’ eyes found him again, went from Aleks’ eyes to his bloody knuckles, then he turned away.

Brett still had Khail on the phone, although they weren’t speaking, and Lindsey had moved closer, right next to Brett but not touching him. Everything was so still, so silent between the four of them that if the Christ Punchers weren’t making various fucking noises of pain, Aleks would have thought time stopped.

“Oh, look at big, bad Nova, back from running with his tail between his legs,” Rian said and he was smiling, his big yellow teeth red with blood. “You don’t have the _balls_ any -”

Nova took three quick steps forward. The shot was so loud, so close to him, that Aleks’ left ear rang. The bullet went right between the eyes of the guy next to Rian, a perfect little circle, and blew out the back of his head completely. His body slumped to the floor, twisted unnaturally.

Distantly Aleks was aware that Lindsey had jumped back in shock and grabbed Brett’s arm. He was _aware_ that he could hear Khail yelling through the phone Brett was holding awkwardly in front of his chest. Aleks felt aware of a lot of things.

But all he could really focus on was Nova.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest as he took deep, even breaths, the muscles of his neck, his jaw, red face, and dark, angry eyes.

“What the fuck! Jason, oh shit, Jason!” Rian wasn’t bound, none of them were, and Nova didn’t stop him as he leaned over the body of someone whose name Aleks should have known before now but didn’t. “What the fuck! This isn’t- you can’t just - we don’t do shit like this anymore! This - you fucking -”

Rian’s hands were covered in blood and he scrambled forward towards Nova, leaving red handprints behind him, even as his other lackeys, screaming and calling to him desperately, tried to stop him.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Nova! I’m gonna rip you apart!”

Aleks saw it coming a second before Rian did. James shifted to the side and lifted his knee, slamming his foot hard into Rian’s face so it sent him sprawling back. The two still alive grabbed Rian and pulled him back through the rapidly expanding puddle of blood, their crying of _Jason_ and _Rian, stop!_ making Aleks wince.

Between Nova’s sneaker and the butt of Aleks’ gun, Rian’s face was _fucked,_ he was barely recognizable through the broken nose and swelling and blood.

And Aleks wanted to feel something about that. About what Nova had done already and what was now obvious he was planning on doing. And he did, sort of; his chest was tight and his heart pounding in his throat and the late lunch he scarfed down was threatening to make an appearance, but… but what Aleks felt wasn’t just revulsion. It was way more complicated than that.

The Christ Punchers killed people indiscriminately. They were chaotic and monstrous and didn’t seem to follow any sort of code. A small voice in the back of Aleks’ head warned he was trying to rationalize what Nova was doing, that the Christ Punchers were no different than how the Hub used be to outside of their home territories, or the Fakes, and maybe that was true, but that didn’t make him wrong. True things were often ugly.

And Aleks didn’t want to think about the cost of all the times he’d let them go. A price he hadn’t paid but someone somewhere sure did. Rian was right, the whole _murdering your rivals_ thing had fallen out of fashion after Geoff had retired and the Hub had imploded, but Nova was a relic of that era and Aleks was new wave.

Finally Aleks was able to tear his eyes away from what was happening in front of him and found Brett and Lindsey both staring at him. The realization they were all armed nearly startled him, and he glanced at his gun and then to Brett again, a silent understanding that they could stop this passing between them. All any of them had to do was raise their gun to Nova and it would be over. But to Aleks’ surprise Brett shook his head slightly, eyes narrowed and mouth a thin, unhappy line. Brett didn't look nearly as shocked as Aleks felt.

He didn't need to say why they shouldn't stop him. Aleks could hear him. _This is who Nova is, who he’s always been, and we’re going to let it happen._ Because even though they were capable of taking him, it was the wrong decision. This wasn’t their show, it was Nova’s and they’d invited themselves as a subplot, but he still gripped his gun tighter and thought about raising it. Thought about but ultimately couldn’t. Not against Nova, at a time like this, where Nova’s legendary justice was being dispensed.

The energy Nova was giving off was oppressive, made Aleks feel like he was suffocating or made of stone. He knew. He fucking knew about these things, he’d joked about it and bragged that that was _his_ neighborhood kingpin as a kid. But seeing Nova do them was chilling.

The fact that Nova hadn’t spoken since he’d sent Joe from the warehouse struck him when he finally broke his silence _._ He grabbed one of them by the hair - Julian, Aleks thought vaguely - and yanked him forward despite grasping hands. The dude tried to land a punch but Nova dug the barrel of his gun against the side of his head and he stilled quickly.

“This is _exactly_ how shit is done,” Nova twisted his hand in Julian’s hair until he bent backwards, “this is fucking recompense, motherfucker.”

The girl had Rian half in her lap, braced over him as if she could protect him somehow, and Nova tapped his gun against Jax’s head lightly, almost playfully, and said, “Open his eyes.”

“What?”

“Hold Rian’s eyes open, _Jax_ ,“ Nova repeated. “I want him to see me.”

Jax wiped the blood away from his eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, shaking so hard Aleks could see it, and Rian opened them. Even through all the damage you could still see the hatred burning there. A fire so fucking big it was burning Aleks too.

James had told him in the park, said it was personal, and Aleks had thought it was personal for him too. But the more he watched unfold the more he was sure James hadn’t been overselling it. Something was happening in front of him Aleks didn’t know anything about and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

With Rian looking up at them, Nova jerked Julian’s head backwards again and put a bullet through his neck.

Aleks heard Lindsey gasp, and he wanted to get over to the both of them. To stand next to her and Brett and not practically at Nova’s side. But he felt rooted where he was, Julian’s blood sprayed out in front of him and on his sneakers, even as more poured from his neck. Like he was part of this, more than an observer.

Both Jax and Rian made terrible, painful noises, all grief and impotent anger.

Nova let go of Julian, who was making noises of his own, wet, bubbling sounds as blood continued to gush from his throat and mouth. He crumpled to the floor and didn’t move.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Jax said, and her voice was hoarse and low and on the verge of tears. No matter who the Christ Punchers were, no matter what they’d done, they were still a crew. It always hurt to lose one of your own. Aleks didn’t want to imagine how he’d feel if it was Brett or Lindsey or Trevor. Couldn’t put himself in the headspace. It was unthinkable. Then again, he would have thought twice about pitting them against Nova.

Or hadn't he already decided to do just that?

For the first time since he started, Nova looked at him. He lingered for a moment before taking in Brett and Lindsey too and seemed to make a decision.

“Joe already paid for this. I’m fucking collecting what’s owed,” he moved forward and grabbed the blood soaked front of Rian’s shirt, lifting him easily away from Jax despite her weak scrambling. “This ain’t about you wanting my territory. And it ain’t even about the territory you already took. I _told_ you he was off limits. You didn’t fucking listen but I was willing to let it go. I was, really. But then you come back, you _set foot_ in my line of sight, you hurt my crew, and you honestly expected, what? That I’d let you go _again_ , Rian? You stupid motherfucker? No. Oh, no. This is the fucking price I set for your stupidity. You pay with _their_ lives.”

Aleks watched, his body unfreezing as Nova spoke, fingers loosening around his gun. The only one speaking was Khail over the phone, yelling something Aleks couldn’t make out. Nova and the things he was saying could have been his entire world. And he stopped breathing, waiting, waiting for him to finish because he sure as fuck wasn’t done.

But it was Rian who spoke, garbled and barely distinguishable.

 _“_ Nova, don’t -”

“Hush, Rian. You had your chance to save them. I’ll be kind, though. Let no one say I'm not fuckin’ merciful.” Nova gentled his voice, and put a clean shot right through Jax’s head despite Rian’s wretched cry. It _felt_ merciful, now that Aleks understood what was really happening, and he finally turned away completely to brace his arms against a nearby crate, feeling so fucking small somehow he’d be surprised if anyone could still see him.

“You don’t get my neighborhood. And your crew, if there’s any left, won’t get to keep what you stole. I want you to know it was me. I want you to fucking _know_ as you die that you made me do this.” Nova dropped his gun and grabbed Rian again, hoisting him to his feet and slamming him back against a rusted piece of machinery.

“Hundar, tell Khail I’m coming. Tell him that I’m bringing treats for Mr. Crockers, and one of them will be alive.”

Brett didn’t say anything but Khail must have heard. Aleks could make out his muffled _finally, this fucking -_ and then the staticy line went dead.

Aleks turned back to see Rian still held firmly against the rusted, filthy metal, and Nova leaned in close to him, nearly pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re going to watch Jax ripped apart. And then I’m going to feed you to him alive.”

It was too much. All of it was too much for Aleks to absorb. He watched, transfixed, as Nova balled his fist and hit Rian with a haymaker. But it was the second punch that knocked Rian out mid-struggle and he fell to the floor in a heap, his brain finally switching offline after all the blows to his goddamn face. Nova raised his foot and put it between Rian’s shoulder blades and Aleks was finally able to take a breath.

“ _That’s_ how you do it, baby.”

James said it to the room but Aleks knew he was talking to him. It sent a shiver down his spine.

It was Brett who broke the silence that followed, of course it was, and he said, “You really have a fucking croc? Anonymous is holding a _crocodile_ for you? You named it _Mr. Crockers_?”

Aleks couldn’t stop the hysterical, not-quite laugh that popped out of him, and even though it was Brett who’d spoke, it was Aleks James turned to. The fucking crocodile. He’d always thought the rumors were full of shit.

“What would you have named it?” James said - and it was James, somehow. The tone of his voice. The line of his shoulders. Something had changed again. Aleks still found that there was fear in the tips of his fingers.

“Chompy,” Lindsey said. “No, wait, what’s that- Tick-Tock! The Tick-Tock Croc, you know, from _Peter Pan_?”

James narrowed his eyes at her for a minute, then said, “Shit, that’s actually good.”

“You could have made a bunch of _your time’s running out_ jokes.”

There was something that Aleks recognized radiating from James, he’d seen it at The AH Brew and the park, when he was talking to his dog - no matter what happened between them all next, he liked Lindsey. And it unfroze Aleks completely. He holstered his gun and stepped around the fucking _bodies_ to get to his crew.

“I’m going to.” Lindsey thumbed back towards the door, “go check-in on - uh, Joe? Joe. See if the car’s here.”

But she didn’t move. Not until Brett tucked his piece away and motioned he’d go with her., reluctant as it was

It was a move Aleks didn’t really understand until he notice that James was looking at him with meaning. He wanted to talk. And he wanted it to be alone. And since Aleks had dragged them all there in the first place, Brett was going to fucking allow it even if he didn’t want it to happen.

Aleks wasn’t expecting a thank you and he didn’t get it. In fact, James barely said anything. What had just happened was none of their business, he’d been right, and although Aleks didn’t regret not listening - not for a second, James and his crew might be dead now if he had - he wasn’t going to push. At least not now.

And he had no idea where this left them. It wasn’t a fucking bonding experience. Now that the Christ Punchers were taken care of, James had promised he’d come after them next.

Which was why it was so fucking outrageous when James held out his hand, and said, “Give me your phone.”

“Fucking what?”

“Aleksandr, hand me your cellular telephone.”

And he did, more out of shock that anything, digging it out of his pocket and unlocking it before slapping it into James’ open hand.

“If they come for you - if your fucking crew has any problems with whoever’s left - call me. I’m serious. You fucking call me.”

There were things Aleks wanted to say. That he was sorry about Joe, which maybe explained that gnarly scar he’d glimpsed, that he didn’t _know,_ that he was fucking horrified by what had just happened but maybe he understood now, that he regretted playing cat and mouse with Rian for so long instead of taking him out, that he wished he could be as willing to take that final step as James apparently was. James looked tired and not as victorious as Aleks would have expected. He wanted to thank him, for some reason, for all the years he’d done things just like this and might have done it alone.

But all Aleks could think about was that Nova had just saved his number into his phone and that didn’t feel like the actions of someone who wanted to kill him, too.

“Do you need - uh,” he gestured around vaguely.

“No,” James snapped. And then a little softer, “No, I got this. Just, tell Joe to hang back. And leave the fucking address with him for wherever your man took Asher.”

“He’ll be safe,” Aleks found himself assuring, halting, “Trevor’s a good kid. And Caleb’s - well, he was around before. You probably know him.”

“I still need the address,” James said and Aleks could see how hard it was for him to admit, “Shit’s changed since the last time I saw him. His clinic isn’t where it used to be.”

“I’ll get it to Joe.” Aleks didn’t look at Rian, or any of the bodies. “Yeah, I’ll. Don’t worry about it. Trev will stick with him until one of you shows up.”

James didn’t say thanks this time, either, but he did nod and that seemed to be the end of everything he had to say.

Aleks shifted uncomfortably, feeling… guilty, maybe, about just leaving. Keeping Joe outside wouldn’t be hard for Lindsey and Brett. It felt wrong to just sit back and make Nova clean up the mess, even if it was one of his own making.

“Cool, now that that’s cleared up,” He patted his hands on his jeans to wipe them off and swallowed the bile rising up as he turned to the bodies. Somewhere in the warehouse, there were supposedly two more.

“I told you -” James started in, sounding tired and annoyed, but Aleks just waved him off.

“Keep Rian and - and Jax’s body, whatever. But, damn it, I helped make these bodies and I’m gonna help put ‘em away.”

“Put ‘em where, Aleksandr?”

“I dunno,” Aleks admitted, “Hundar usually does disposal, but I don’t want you gutting my best guy like a guppy so you deal with me now.”

James rolled his eyes, but crouched behind Rian to tie his hands up with a thick spool of cord he produced from _somewhere_ \- maybe the loose jeans served a purpose after all - instead of arguing any more. Maybe he figured Aleks would bitch out.

Aleks didn’t let himself bitch out. In the end, after James had tied Rian up and then to a nearby piece of broken down machinery there’d be no escaping from, they managed to drag the four bodies that weren’t going to be _fed to James’ crocodile_ out to the pier and then over the side. Each splash sounded like a gunshot, tying slabs of broken concrete with string, cord, or rope they found lying around to make sure they sunk for at least a couple days before surfacing.

He did it, though, and he wasn’t looking for fuckin’ praise but he wasn’t above patting _himself_ on the back, even if only in his head. He hadn’t hurled even once, though there had been a close call when Julian’s brain matter had stuck to his hands after pushing the body over. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to deal with bodies, but it was kind of the most brutal.

James didn’t stick around to say goodbye or anything once they were done. Aleks corralled Joe into a different area while James loaded Rian and Jax’s body into his trunk, giving him directions to Caleb’s clinic, and then James collected his remaining crewmate and left.

Aleks didn’t let himself watch the car leave.

It did leave him alone with his own crew, though, a stone-faced Brett and a vaguely bored Lindsey.

“So…” he broke the silence, “that was a little intense, huh? Who saw that coming? Not me.”

“Because you’re an idiot. That’s exactly what I knew was gonna happen, that is who Nova _is_.” Brett said sharply, and Aleks winced before he could stop himself.

It was the last thing either of them said to him for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite his conscious decision to _not_ look when he walked through the door to the Brew, Aleks scanned the room before he could stop himself. It wasn’t that he was searching for anyone specific, of course, more that it was the first time he’d found the time to return in like two months and he was… scoping the place out after being gone so long.

“Aleks!” Michael greeted almost before the bell had even started its chime, “Long time, no see.”

“Been busy.” Aleks said, because he had been. But he now had a solid week of full nights’ rest and real food and no immediate problems biting at his heels since the Christ Punchers were dealt with, and it was time to relax. It was a sure as hell deserved break. “Who’s in the kitchen?”

“Ryan,” Michael shrugged, shoving his glasses up his nose, “Baking some new shit. Said if I breathed wrong I’d ruin it, so off to the counter I went. What can I get ya’?”

“Don’t suppose you have a rum and coke behind that counter?”

“Yeah, no, actually. Fresh out.”

“I’ll take… Black tea, then. And a fuckin’ scone. And I’ve got some cool graffiti Trevor did to show you.”

“Fancy. Drop them to me later.” Michael wiggled his eyebrows, took his ten and handed him a small plate with _two_ scones - “Because we missed your fuckin’ business,” - and sent him off to his favorite table with a promise to bring his tea in a few minutes.

Aleks went without a fuss. He’d just settled down with his phone to wait before digging into the scones when the bell above the door chimed right when he’d gotten comfortable. He let himself glance up for just a second, just to confirm that it was him, and then quickly back down at his phone before he made a fool of himself. As if he couldn’t tell who it was just from the shift in the room, the quieting of the mumbled conversation.

It was fucking frustrating thing to feel like he _could_ make a fool of himself, but that was where he found himself at now. Or again, or as always, as if things had ever actually changed. And Aleks had to force himself to keep his eyes on his phone and not do anything stupid like sink down in his chair or sit up to grab James’ attention. They’d agreed to exist together in various places in relative silence, more or less, and now they shared the murder of the Christ Punchers between them, a wound Aleks refused to look at, but that didn’t make them friends. They weren’t even friendly. Not that Aleks was interested in being any kind of friendly with _James_.

He rolled his eyes at himself, turning slightly to face the front floor to ceiling windows and resolutely ignore the counter. Taking a big bite of his scone - it was cranberry orange and pretty good - he texted Brett, then Lindsey, and then three others, casting a big net just to make sure someone would get back to him as a distraction.

Not that he needed one. Just a precaution, really.

Michael greeted James, both of them equally boisterous and bordering on obnoxious in the quiet shop. Aleks gave an involuntary huff that he was sure had drawn their attention.

Which was fine, really, because he wasn’t hiding. But was still annoying.

“Calm your dick,” Michael tossed in his direction, “I’m bringing it.”

James laughed and Aleks turned to glare at Michael as he brought over his tea, but missed and caught James’ eye instead. He didn’t say hi or _wave_ but he sort of smiled, a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth, an acknowledgment more than anything, and Aleks sort of smiled back at him but felt it come off as a grimace. It was _embarrassing_ , but it made James laugh again.

He thanked Michael, who told him to fuck off in his own friendly way, then turned his attention back to his phone and responding texts from Lindsey. She and Brett were grabbing lunch and picking up some supplies, and then were going to catch a movie, maybe grab a few drinks, and Aleks tried to care about Lindsey and Brett’s weird blossoming relationship, but just _couldn’t_ because his life was a mess _._ He sent a thumbs up emoji then put down his phone to stuff more of the scone in his mouth, acutely aware of James getting his iced coffee and meandering around tables to a dark little corner in the back where Geoff usually sat when he felt like showing face.

With no one else coming in, Michael followed him as they continued their conversation - loud enough that Aleks could follow it if he wanted to, not that he did. Instead of listening in, he distracted himself with his phone and his tea and his scones and did not chime in that they were both idiots if they thought Syracuse even had a chance at the Final Four.

He opened up his photos, scrolled through the last couple days’ worth - selfies with his crew or friends, like twenty pictures of Mishka and Celia being cute together, one of Ein and Mishka at the park that he’d hopefully snapped without James noticing, and the graffiti art he’d told Michael about. He selected the art, tapped the share button and almost, _almost_ , ignored the other two names that popped up at the top of his Share menu.

 _MJones_ and a familiar sketchy wolf icon were where his eyes had immediately gone to, but there were two other icons in front of his. The first was a phone just called _geoffrey_ with an icon of that asshole kid from Game Of Thrones with a crudely photoshopped handlebar mustache, obviously Geoff’s, pasted onto his face. The middle was…just a picture of an ass with a chef’s hat sticker in the corner, with the name _Gourmet Anal_ attached.

Slowly, carefully, Aleks looked around the shop. There was a girl somewhere between them, that same punk he’d seen a while back, but she, somehow, didn’t strike him as the type to name her phone _Gourmet Anal_.

His eyes slid to James. Jesus Christ.

He was still chatting with Michael, gesturing wildly with his drink in one hand and his fingers splayed wide with the other.

Thoughtfully, Aleks backtracked, selected one of the many, many memes he had saved to his cloud - a bearded man, layered over and over, with a look of disgust on his face and rejection in his hands, because that name was fucking disgusting - and casually dropped it to _Gourmet Anal_. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to even _look_ at the contact number in his phone, let alone text it. But leaving your Bluetooth open in a public café was just asking for it.

He didn’t turn to see James’ reaction, just heard his phone buzz once against the table while he and Michael were still talking and then, abruptly, James went quiet.

“Something important?” Michael asked, not that Aleks was listening.

“Huh? What, no,” James cleared his throat, “Nah, just, uh…Nothing. Nothing important.”

In the next second, Aleks’ phone shivered in his hand and a message popped up asking if he wanted to accept an incoming drop of an image of James’ middle finger against the backdrop of the familiar table top. With a gun to his temple, Aleks would never admit to the shot of adrenaline that sparked through his stomach at the response. He hadn’t actually expected anything but a loud _fuck off._

“Sure,” Michael said a little louder, kind of amused, “I’ll, uh. Catch you later, Wilson.”

“But,” James started to say, like he wasn’t going to let Aleks distract him, so Aleks sent another picture - a pretty business lady with her hand up and _no thank you im good_ in Comic Sans typed awkwardly around her - and tried not to grin when he heard James’ phone buzz again.

There was no way to stop the smile when his own phone vibrated again to the background sound of James grumbling to himself. It was a stupid old ass meme from Twitter that wasn’t even funny when it was fresh, especially wasn’t funny now, but still made him laugh. It felt a little like losing, letting James hear him laugh, but Aleks couldn’t bring himself to care much. He thumbed through his camera roll for something good, a reaction image or a screen cap or a gif or something, and sent it along when he found one.

And it kept going like that for longer than he could’ve imagined. Until Aleks was at the bottom of his second tea, close to exhausting his good memes folder, and was unexpectedly and steadily making James laugh. It was such a good laugh, a ridiculous loud bark that cut off short into a wheeze, when he wasn’t _giggling,_ and Aleks liked listening to it. Liked _causing_ it. That was something he’d never heard before - not like this. He’d heard cackles, mockery - there had been one single time when he’d gone to see Sly where the Hub liked to hang out together and he’d heard a gaffing from a couch he hadn’t been able to find even an iota of courage to look towards, but nothing quite like this.

Whatever this was, it felt different. When they were at the park, they stayed mostly silent, sort of ignored each other while still being obsessively aware of each other’s presence and the dogs were there to continually break the ice. There was the warehouse, but that had been a job, really, and Aleks could admit that though the last hour of it he’d been too terrified and grossed out to really care who he was with. Their run-ins around town were always weird and awkward, neither of them happy that the other knew where they liked to do their shopping or go to the movies or buy their cigarettes.

This was _different._ They weren’t talking, but they might as well be, and it was kinda light and made Aleks’ stomach flip. And even though it was happening, it was still difficult to believe that James knew how to be playful.

His phone was going off with much more than the messages from James, both Lindsey and Trevor were texting him about sudden business, or beef, or probably both, and it looked like a few of the leads he’d gotten from Jack weeks back were panning out. Brett would be happy to keep going with that Haus call, but he found that he was more annoyed than anything by the distractions he’d asked for.

It was business that needed _seeing_ to, which sucked. He wanted to stay, knew it was stupid but wanted it anyway. He liked sitting in the café listening to Michael, back behind the counter, arguing with Gavin through the kitchen door. Liked the good music Geoff always had playing. Liked the coffee. Aleks felt relaxed for the first time in a long time, and James’ presence somewhere behind him wasn’t derailing the feeling. It was comfortable.

But the sun was getting higher in the sky and he had shit to do.

He was still trying to pick out his goodbye message when his phone buzzed with a different kind of notification.

“Yo.”

“Don’t _yo_ me,” Lindsey snapped, voice obviously tired, “I told you I needed you down here an hour ago.”

“I, uh,” Aleks looked at his empty tea mug, “got caught up. I’m on my way.”

“Just get here,” she said, and then sighed loud enough that Aleks thought it might actually have echoed around the shop. “And bring me a coffee.”

“Sure,” Aleks appeased, because he _had_ blown her off for an hour so he could exchange stupid messages with their rival. “Coming right up.”

“It better be,” she warned, ominous, and hung up.

Wincing, Aleks stood and gathered his trash, mug on his empty plate, and turned to the counter with dishes in hand. “Can I get a coffee to go?”

“Sure thing, pal,” Jeremy had taken over and he said loud enough to make Aleks wince again, then went to work.

Aleks set his things on the discard tray and pulled his phone back out of his pocket to fiddle with it just to avoid looking too awkward, while he waited for Jeremy to finish up.

He had another message from James.

“Oh my _god_ ,” he whispered to himself, the cringe almost overwhelming him. James had sent him a _Bye, Felicia_ meme. God. What a _dork_. Aleks wasn’t smiling about this. He refused. But he did shift just to make sure James couldn’t see his face.

“Coffee,” Jeremy said, as aggressively as he always spoke, like he was completing a challenge with each order, and set his to-go cup on the counter. _Boston_ , Aleks thought wearily. “Two-ten. What’s got you all glowing? Are you talking to _a boy_ -”

“ _No!_ ” Aleks said loudly, “I am _not_ , you nosy asshole, I am doing _business things!_ ”

“Uh-huh,” Jeremy grinned, slow and wide, and leaned on the counter as Aleks shoved his phone away again and fished out a five to slam down for the coffee, “Sure. Business things.”

“Fuck you.” Aleks, flustered, grabbed the coffee and left as fast as he could manage without breaking into a jog. He couldn’t help but to glance over his shoulder toward the back of the shop as he went through the door.

James was watching him, a grin set firmly on his stupid fucking face.

“Fuck you!” Aleks repeated, louder, and then let the door close behind him and stomped to his car.

God, he was an _idiot_.

When he’d settled into his car, he put the coffee in the center console holder and snatched up his charger to plug the phone in. He took a moment to thumb at the screen thoughtfully, watching the little lightning bolt appear to prove that the phone was, indeed, charging, and before he could stop himself, he’d unlocked it, scrolled to the contact James had set as _nova_ , and sent a _surprise, bitch_ gif to the number.

Then he hit the lock, put it face down in the other cup holder so he wouldn’t watch obsessively for a response, and went to go be a real adult criminal with real fucking responsibilities to his crew.

-

It was almost always hot in Los Santos, but summer had announced its early arrival with a heat wave, the kind of temperatures that felt heavy and suffocating. By the time Mishka dragged him the final three blocks to the park, Aleks’ tank was sticking to the small of his back, sweat rolling down his temples and the nape of his neck. Mishka didn’t appear to mind the stifling warmth; she bounced on her front paws at the entrance, waiting for Aleks to unleash her, but he shook his head.

It was earlier than they usually went and there were still people around, some with their own dogs or kids, but most either evening joggers or _couples_. She’d have to wait if she wanted to run, and Aleks was ready to settle in for the long haul and hang around until the park cleared out. He needed the quiet. Needed the fresh air. Needed to fucking get his head right.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” he said to Mishka as she sniffled around a tree a few feet ahead of him. “Why do you let me do this shit?”

Her tail wagged but she didn’t answer.

Mishka didn’t stop him because she wanted to visit this park for the same goddamn reason Aleks did. Because maybe they’d run into them. They’d _probably, definitely_ run into them. Just like they always did. Aleks could set his watch by this.

They rounded the path towards his favorite spot in the park. A lone bench, far enough from the lamppost to stay bug-free after the sunset but close enough to stay dimly lit. It was bracketed by dense trees, at least as dense as they could get in Los Santos, and had a pretty nice view of the city. It was the bench he’d seen Ein run underneath that first time and the one he sat on waiting to talk about the Christ Punchers and it was the one that had accidentally because the unofficial meeting spot of their unofficial meetings. Aleks couldn’t remember if he’d been walking around with strong feelings about some fucking bench before he started associating it with James, but he sure as hell hoped so.

It wasn’t James he was thinking about as he sat down though, unhooking the extendable leash so Mishka could at least get a bit of a run in. It was just his imagination but sometimes it was like he could feel himself being pulled, stretched, two equal forces yanking both his hands until he started to rip down the middle. It was Brett on his mind, even as he sat there hoping James would show up, and Lindsey, and Trevor, and the increasingly unavoidable fact that he was betraying them.

Even in his own head he couldn’t excuse it anymore. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening or wasn’t what it was.

 _Nova_ pulled back. His crew had already slowed down pushing in on their territory but stopped completely after the incident with the Christ Punchers and, where Aleks wished that Brett just felt _relieved_ , he instead was more suspicious than ever. He was switching gears fast from defense to offense and Aleks found himself stalling, every fucking day, trying to stall whatever it was Brett was cooking up. Brett was convinced Nova was planning something. That he was waiting for them to let their guard down, to show their soft underbelly - that he was just getting more powerful as they did nothing but sit on their motherfucking hands and if they didn’t do something _soon_ , well, Nova would destroy them.

Aleks looked down at his phone, a text from Trevor brightening the screen, and could hear Brett’s voice in his head, “You know who he is now. You saw it. I’ll go through you, if you force me, to make sure he doesn’t get the opportunity to do that to us. Do you understand?”

Thinking about what Brett going _through_ him to get to Nova would look like made his stomach turn, but he no longer could pretend he wouldn’t try to stand in the way.

_Meet up for dinner at the place? Midnightish? L &B too_

He tugged on Mishka’s leash to get her attention, a few dead leaves sticking out of her mouth. At the look on his face, she dropped them.

_sounds like a plan_

Aleks couldn’t be sure, but even if he _was_ , there existed no way to tell his crew that James wasn’t lying low and scheming to viciously murder them all; that maybe, you know, _maybe_ there was something else happening. Something that Aleks knew he shouldn’t want but did. Wanted when he was younger and now in a whole new, much more intense way. That maybe James was coming to see him as a friend and he might not want to kill his friends.

Maybe.

Even to his own ears that sounded flimsy as fuck.

But he had a month’s worth of texts on his phone that suggested it might not be entirely off-base. Stupid exchanges that started with memes and fell quickly into observational humor, to there being nothing good on Netflix, to James asking what groomer Aleks used for Mishka, because his place shut down and Ein needed a cut. Text messages in the middle of the night, because they both knew each other was awake, just to tease and bicker about whatever had happened earlier at the Brew or the park.

It felt _good_ and it was dangerous and Aleks knew that. But the excitement he felt every time his phone buzzed, thinking it might be James, was fucking addicting.

He felt the buzz in his pocket, familiar, and it was instinctive that he pulled it out, saw the shit emoji he’d replaced _Nova_ with - for deniability, his thoughts whispered, so Brett wouldn’t see the name if it popped up at a bad time, so he could pretend it was someone else if Lindsey or Trevor asked.

_Y are u always here dude_

He blinked, looked up and around until he spotted James and Ein coming from the opposite direction that he had. Ein was pulling at her leash, her barks initially blending into the ambiance of the park but now obvious in the same way that he could pick Mishka’s out of a line-up.

“Stop stalking me,” he said the second James was in earshot, “it’s getting weird, dude.”

“This was my park, my _bench_ first,” James scoffed, flopping onto the other side. Ein ducked under the bench almost immediately, she and Mishka already making more noise than any two dogs reasonably should.

“And?”

“ _And_ fuck off,” James said succinctly, “I didn’t come here to be accused of stalking.”

“Should I accuse you of something else, then?” Aleks asked, starting to untangle their leashes, which Mishka and Ein had already sent overlapping several times over. James relinquished his hold to make the job easier. By this point, knowing how to handle their dogs together was almost second-nature, something he’d grown used to. He could feel Ein burrowing between his feet, her head popping out from between his shoes to pant all over the tops of his converse.

“Someone could accuse me of murder if you don’t shut up,” James grumbled back and let his head loll over the back of the bench. “Your guy is fucking annoying.”

“You could always go try to take over someone else’s turf,” Aleks offered, and meant exactly zero of it.

“Yeah, right,” James snorted. “Something tells me the bastard would follow me thinking it was a plot to ruin your crew.”

“He’s a good guy.” Aleks smiled despite the tension that had been building between he and Brett for the last few months, “Not many people would be willing to go head-to-head with Nova, I bet.”

“Do you suck his dick at home, too, or just in public?”

“Jealous?” Aleks fluttered his eyelashes and James sneered but there was a grin trying to poke through the scowl.

His eyes fell to Aleks’ mouth, just for a half second, and said, “What do you call it?” - he paused, pretending to be thoughtful - “You’re an _exhibitionist._ I can totally see that.”

“Good.” Aleks forced himself to laugh, just to hide the way he knew his voice would crack. “ _Seeing_ is the point. What’s the use of doing anything if nobody’s watching?”

The grin finally won out and James smiled, breathing out a laugh, and Aleks was saved from doing something stupid when Ein barked, flopping on the ground across both their feet. She drew James’ attention too and he leaned forward to reach for her ears, scratching behind them before running his hands over her entire face. Wiggling happily, Ein yipped again and this time Mishka answered.

She army-crawled out from under the bench and laid across Ein’s belly, licking frantically at her face and eye until Ein rolled out from under her. James laughed again and unhooked Ein’s leash, then Mishka’s without asking.

James watched them as they ran off, and Aleks watched him; he looked _happy._ Cheeks rosy and mouth turned up just slightly, his eyes heavy lidded but bright. He wore happy really well, although it didn’t exactly seem like something that sat with him comfortably.

The lamppost flickered on as dusk settled over the city along with an easy silence between them. Aleks leaned back on the bench, close enough he could feel James’ body heat, and brought his legs up to rest his elbows on his knees. He wished he could tell Brett and the rest of them about this. That Nova - James - wasn’t who they thought he was. Or at least not only that.

Sometimes he liked that it was a secret only he knew, but in the back of his head he understood all of this was happening on borrowed time. It couldn’t last, not with Brett wanting the territory shit handled for good and James no doubt still planning on taking it all away from them. He just wanted it to keep going as long as possible. Wanted these quiet moments with him, where it was effortless to imagine it could be like this all the time.

The park, the coffee shop, the text messages… it was all stolen. Aleks knew he shouldn’t have it. But he wanted it so badly it was consuming. And when they were together, it was difficult to remember why he couldn’t.

After a while, James leaned back too, shifting closer to show Aleks a video compilation on his phone. They made fun of it together, a natural back-and-forth that had them both laughing as the park slowly emptied. Pressed together so close Aleks could smell his shampoo.

His phone vibrated again and he turned it off without taking it out of his pocket, ignoring the thoughtful way James was watching.

“Did you grow up here?” James asked abruptly. “In the neighborhood?”

“Sorta,” Aleks shrugged, grabbing James’ phone to skip to the next video. “Bounced around the system for a while. Landed here.”

James looked taken aback and Aleks flushed a little and brought his knees closer to his chest, handing his phone back. “No family?”

“Not here,” Aleks admitted, keeping his eyes on the screen. James had settled back again and slung his arm over the bench. They weren’t touching, but Aleks felt hyperaware or how close he was.

“Not in Los Santos?”

“Not in _America.”_

From the corner of his eye he saw James make a face and Aleks smiled a little smugly. It had been a while since he’d spoken anything but English, but Russian still rolled off his tongue as easily as it did when he was a kid. He said, “ _You’re cute when you’re confused. You’re cute all the time_.”

“Communist,” James said, popping his fist against his thigh like he was coming to some sort of conclusion.

“ _Cука,_ ” Aleks wrinkled up his nose at him and James laughed again, that under-his-breath kind of chuckle.

“I’ve played enough C.O.D. to know what that fuckin’ means, asshole.”

“My English, it is, how do you say, _no good_ , I cannot understand,” Aleks tried his best innocent face and James just shoved at him until he nearly fell over the arm of the bench, cackling as Aleks flailed.

“Okay, so you’re not from around here.” James brought the subject back up and Aleks let his own laughter die down as he thought about how he wanted to answer.

“I guess,” he settled on, “I mean, I went to middle school and high school here. So I spent most of my youth or whatever here. My foster family kicked me out after high school but I lived in - shit, it got demolished, you know the apartments -”

“Yeah, on Dixon,” James finished for him, nodding before he’d even finished, “That building was falling apart before I even showed up, Jesus.”

Aleks hummed in agreement, remembering back to the years he’d spent there. He found himself laughing again at a particular memory.

“Once,” he shared, quiet, “I was running down the stairs because I was late as fuck for the bus and I’d have to walk if I missed it and one of the stairs just _collapsed_ out from under my foot. Caved right the fuck in, I could see down to the bottom floor through the wood. The super was pissed.”

“Christ,” James huffed, leaning back, “how are you alive?”

“Grit, determination, and the vodka in my blood,” Aleks shrugged and saw the quick smile out of the corner of his eye. He’d started watching the dogs, Ein chasing Mishka for the stick Mishka had clamped in her teeth. Usually Mishka was a push over and gave anything up that Ein wanted, but apparently this stick was the hill she’d die on tonight.

“And,” he added, quieter, “aside from collapsing stairs…the neighborhood was pretty safe for the last few years. Not too much for an emo noodle boy to have to watch out for.”

James didn’t say anything to that, nor anything at all for a long few seconds.

“I’m from Philly,” he offered to break the quiet.

“That’s…across the country, dude.” Aleks blinked at him, turning away from where the dogs were Tug ‘o War’ing the stick between them. “What made you come all the way out here?”

“Jordan -” James stopped, “You probably just knew him as Kootra. Koots brought me out here. Said the pickings were good for us to make a name for ourselves. Los Santos, where the bad guys are the good guys.” He waved his hand in front of him, like he wanted Aleks to imagine the words in Hollywood lights. Aleks almost could.

“Plus I had a loose connection to Mogar.” He continued, “East coasters, baby. We had a few mutual friends.”

“I’d say it was nepotism that got you your turf, then, but…” Aleks trailed off. He could still remember the first time he’d seen Nova. He’d been hearing about him for a couple weeks, some sort of gangster who was roughing up the place until he got what he wanted, and he was getting it. The first time, though, had been just a few blocks from the high school. Aleks had been…freshmen? Maybe a sophomore? Either way, he’d come down the street and seen him talking to a dealer Aleks knew liked to frequent the school areas. He hadn’t looked too happy in the conversation and Aleks had turned the fuck around and not looked back.

He’d never seen that dealer around after that, though.

James just shrugged. “I guess. It’s kinda easier when you got a whole big crew like I did. Not that cleaning this shit hole up was a walk in the park.”

“Don’t I know it.” Aleks rubbed his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Yeah?” James glanced at him. “Seems like you did an okay job.”

“Oh, thanks,” Aleks scoffed, but his cheeks were warming. “What a compliment. An _okay job_. Fuck you.”

That made James laugh, loud and almost honking, and Aleks had to concentrate hard on the dogs and the idle question of how Mishka was _losing_ to a _Corgi_ so he wouldn’t go cherry red. James really did wear happy good.

Again he thought of Brett and how impossible it was to imagine _this_ man wanted to destroy any of them. The person he knew now, it wasn’t the guy from the warehouse, even though he knew that Nova was still in there. That wasn’t the part of him he seemed interested in letting Aleks see often, or at all.

Aleks no longer knew any better than to think James _liked_ him. Maybe not in the same way he did but even that was on the table. Because the sky was pink at the horizon and a deep, bottomless purple everywhere else, and James was looking at him, his eyes and mouth and collarbone when Aleks subconsciously tilted his head back, and it felt warm. It wasn’t just the hot summer night.

“Wanna walk?”

“Huh?”

“You know it’s empty at night. C’mon.” James stretched when he stood up and Aleks waited to see if his shirt would ride up enough to get a glimpse of skin, but was shit out of luck. “There’s a swing on the other side of this park with your name on it.”

“A swing?” Aleks giggled, hating himself for it but unable to prevent it. He dropped his legs down.

“Too cool for that?” James asked, and held out his hand.

There was no reason for Aleks to take it, but he did, wrapping his fingers around James wrist and him doing the same before yanking him to his feet. When they let go of each other, Aleks’ skin felt cold where they’d touched. He wiped his palms on the thighs of his jeans.

“A little, yeah. Definitely, dude.”

“No, you’re not.” James smiled. He looked fond.

Before Aleks could feel embarrassed over the way he blushed, James whistled, effectively calling to them both Ein and Mishka. Without another word they started along the path that circled the outskirts of the park, the dogs running ahead, sniffling around trees and ponds until Aleks and James passed and they had to run to catch up. The park was quiet enough that Aleks could hear every twig they stepped on. the dogs running, and the way James was breathing.

He was screwed, honestly, and didn’t know how he’d ever bounce back from this. All he could think about was holding James’ hand.

They didn’t make it to the swings. They stopped when they hit the skate park and sat down at the edge of one of the half-pipes. They didn’t talk about their crews or plans or how this was all going to end, but they did talk. A lot. They made each other laugh, looked at memes, and Aleks tried and failed to expand James’ musical horizons.

“Too bad you don’t have your skateboard,” James said after a long stretch of silence. “You could show me some of your _totally sick_ tricks, dude.”

Aleks glared at him and pinched his side. Close by, set back in the grass, Ein and Mishka were lying together, curled up. Mishka was resting her head on Ein’s neck.

“I’d like to see you on a skateboard, motherfucker,” he grumbled and James actually laughed out loud.

“With my fuckin’ old man back? I’d kill myself. I’m too old for that shit.”

“Oh my god, _I’m too old_ , shut the fuck up,”

“You don’t get to decide what age I am, fuckface,” James argued back and Aleks would like to say that they left soon after, that they realized how late it was getting, got up and went their separate ways, broke the unexpected magic of the night and didn’t get lost in it. He’d like to say that he managed to bring Mishka home before heading to the dinner with the crew. That he got over whatever the warmth and ache in his chest was every time he saw James.

None of that would be true.

Instead, the two of them stayed on the half pipe, except for the fifteen minutes where James disappeared to jog his way to the nearest food truck, closing up for the night, to argue with the guy until he could pay extra for five hot dogs that he juggled back to the skate park. The night got darker around them as they each ate and split the fifth between their dogs, poking fun at each other and laughing about who was the bigger pussy for not wanting to eat cold, day-old hot dogs. What really happened was when Aleks finally realized how drowsy he was, he could do nothing but slump over until he was leaning against James’ shoulder, and James leaned into him, too.

What really happened was, some time between when the moon was above head, the whole city silent except for their talking, and when the sun rose, they fell asleep together. James laid back first and Aleks could only follow, their legs hanging down along the curved concrete and eyes on the starless sky. As they began to doze, someone shifted, maybe they both did, and Aleks was pressed against him, boneless and chest light. Aleks’ head pillowed on James’ arm and shoulder and James’ face pressed to his hair.

He woke up at dawn, tucked into James’ side, sore and chilly where they weren’t pressed together, and scraped up from the concrete, knees aching from how they’d dangled for hours. The city still silent other than birds and the distant sounds of buses, and, thank fuck, Mishka and Ein snoring away in a pile under a nearby palm tree.

Aleks let himself have the moment. What did a few more minutes really matter, anyway? James’ hand was resting on his own stomach, curled into the fabric of his stupid ugly tie-dye shirt, and Aleks touched him with the tips of his fingers, tracing the bumps and valleys of his knuckles up to the inside of his wrist. He looked younger when he was asleep, all the stress and tension he carried nowhere to be found. Aleks wondered if it was the same for him.

Reluctantly, he shook James awake, whispering about staying out and sleeping in the goddamn public park like _homeless_ _idiots_. He watched James wake up, blinking slowly and then rapidly, finding Aleks’ face and lighting up with a grin for a few seconds. He only laughed at Aleks for his reprimands and complained about his aching joints and stiff back.

What really happened was they helped each other up, leashed their sleepy dogs, and limped their way to the park entrance. If their fingers brushed the whole way, not electric but somehow familiar, a sweet aching…well, the only person Aleks could admit that to was himself.

Pausing on the street, he watched James leave in the opposite direction of his own apartment, then turned with Mishka at his heels and made his way home. The city was waking up and Aleks let himself slow down enough to enjoy it for once. Neighbors still half asleep, walking their own dogs or slipping into corner stores for coffee and breakfast. It felt good.

James hadn’t turned to look at him when they parted ways but somehow it still felt like their stolen moment wasn’t over quite yet.

-

A fistfight would’ve been preferable. No universe existed where Aleks could _take_ Brett in a brawl but he would’ve taken that beating to avoid this. Brett didn’t move much when he was angry, his feet rooted wherever he was standing and he became a fucking mountain, and nothing Aleks could ever say would get through to him. He knew that, knew Brett.

But he wanted him the fuck out of his apartment.

“No explanation then? Sticking with _I was walking around then fell asleep at the park?_ ”

It took everything in Aleks to bite back his laughter. The best lies where always mostly truths. And although he did feel bad about all of this - terribly, soul-crushingly bad about what he was continuing to do to his crew - Brett was making it real difficult to remember that.

“Yo, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Aleks shook his head. “I missed a fucking dinner, Brett, and I’m sorry about that, but what the fuck? I’m allowed to have a life. You don’t need to know what I’m doing every minute of the day.”

Brett pressed a hand over his eyes then squeezed the bridge of his nose as he made a loud, unhappy noise. Aleks decided he didn’t give a shit. For a moment, Brett looked like he was going to launch into another round of lecturing - how they were in the middle of a “gang war”, how everyone was supposed to always check in, and that it wasn’t acceptable to turn his fucking phone off and disappear. But he didn’t.

“I’m so fucking done with you, Aleks,” he said instead, and his voice was like _ice._ “You dropped the ball on Pattillo’s car leads, you barely show up to shakedowns, meetings, _dinner_. I’d love to say that I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I do.”

Aleks huffed and smiled, tight-lipped and unhappy. Mishka was lying on the couch, watching them with her head resting on her front paws, and he thought of her and Ein sleeping together in the grass. Brett had _no fucking idea_ what was really going on.

“Just fucking don’t,” he said and Brett didn’t, but it sure as hell wasn’t because Aleks told him not to. He had other things to say.

“If you can’t do your job anymore, what good are you to this crew? And this isn’t just because of Nova showing back up, you were dragging your feet long before that fuck came back from the dead.”

Brett wasn’t wrong and that somehow made it worse. The truth, what Aleks had known for a long time but never wanted to admit, was he had no idea what he wanted from their crew. No real idea how to run something as big as Brett wanted it to be. Or if he was even prepared to be the person he promised Brett he already was. All he’d wanted was to protect his neighborhood. After Nova died Aleks just wanted to feel safe again. He’d never thought any further than that.

That’s not what he’d sold Brett on, though, and Brett obviously remembered that. He’d sold Brett on taking over Nova’s turf, securing it, and then slowly moving outward, collecting a bigger crew, bigger paydays, more power. He’d sold Brett on a crew like the Fakes, not on a twenty-block prison cell.

“I guess I’m not good for anything, then,” he snapped back, stung for all that it was the truth, “maybe you should kick me out. Or, hell, do I know too much? Maybe you should just shoot me because I didn’t follow up on the lead! God forbid I get in the way of _your_ ambitions, huh?”

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Brett poked the air in his direction, “and don’t turn this around on me, Aleks. I’ve been here, running this fuckin’ crew since day one, and I’ve held off on growing because _you_ wanted to wait, wanted to shore up the home base. But that’s not what you want at all, is it?”

Aleks stiffened, glaring because he didn’t have anything he could say to that.

“No,” Brett shook his head, angry and loud. Lindsey and Trevor were silent, sitting at the kitchen table and watching the argument like a tennis match, neither defense nor offense. “You just want to stay here, in this fucking tiny little chunk of Los Santos. Hell, now that Nova’s back, why do you even need to do anything? You could retire, fuck the rest of us, the rest of the crew you built up and swore up and down to that you’d make big. Let _Nova_ deal with all the big, bad gangs while you _walk around all night and sleep in the park!_ ”

“Brett.” he said tightly, “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know,” He had to stop, collect himself. He was shaking with his anger, he realized suddenly. “You don’t know what - what you’re fuckin, you don’t know what you’re talking about, you can’t, just shut up -”

“You’d _love_ if we kicked you out,” Brett said over him, “because then it wouldn’t be _your_ fault if it’s us on our knees in a warehouse while Nova executes us one after another, would it? _You_ wouldn’t be making the decisions, so if your precious _Nova_ fucking murdered us all in our sleep, you could just fuckin’ forget about it -”

“ _Brett!_ ” he snarled, clenching his fists tight at his sides, “I said shut the fuck up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Brett nodded, and his tone was that fucking condescending bullshit tone he used when he thought the person he was talking to was an idiot - that _Aleks_ was an idiot. “Sure, man. I’ll shut up. But we both know I’m right. The second that motherfucker showed back up, you stopped giving a single shit about the rest of us; and don’t fucking think we haven’t noticed.”

“That is _not_ true and you fucking know it!” Aleks yelled before he could stop himself. He knew that the best way to handle Brett when he was like this was to just not respond, to let him say whatever he wanted to say to get a rise until he was all huff and puffed out, he _knew_ , but he couldn’t stop himself. “Don’t you dare fucking say I don’t care about this crew, I -”

“You,” Brett dropped his voice but, somehow, it was more menacing than any of the yelling from before, “missed dinner. You didn’t check in, you had us worried fuckin’ sick all night, and now you’re _lying_ to us. You don’t think I know when you’re not telling the truth, asshole? I’ve known you for years, Aleks, I can tell when you’re hiding something, and _you’re hiding something_.”

“Get out.” Aleks pointed at his door, fully aware he was trembling, “I can’t even, you - _how dare_ \- Get _out_ , Brett.”

Brett laughed at him, mocking and angry. “Sure, I’ll _get out_. That’s exactly what you want us to do, isn’t it? Get out of the way so you can go back to your life before we had to do this. Sure.”

Aleks watched him go, knew his arm was visibly shaking and that Lindsey and Trevor could see it.

Lindsey, without a word, stood up and followed Brett, her eyes passing over Aleks like he wasn’t even there.

It left he and Trevor alone, and he dropped his arm. Pressing his face to his hands, Aleks breathed deep and hard enough to hurt, holding his breath while he palmed at his eyes. They were sore from lack of sleep; Brett had charged in just a couple hours after he’d got home and they’d been fighting for hours at this point. A lecture, a tense silence, a burst of fighting, and then silence again, until this explosive finale. The day had been shit.

“Aleks,” Trevor said, voice quiet.

Aleks didn’t answer.

Trevor, after a second, just sighed. Aleks heard him stand up, walk out, and shut the door quietly behind him.

It left Aleks alone, and only then did he sit where he stood, pull his knees up, and press his face to them while he tried to calm down.

Brett hadn’t meant most of it. He’d just been taking pot shots, trying to hurt him because he’d pissed him off, but damn. _Damn_.

Mishka came to join him, nosing at his ankle and then his shoulder before flopping onto the cool tile of the kitchen next to him. Somewhere, he was sure Celia was hiding from all the noise. He could relate. Now that they were gone, Aleks just felt exhausted. The underlying feelings behind the shitty things Brett said washed over him in a heavy wave, made his arms and shoulders feel weak.

There was no way Lindsey and Trevor honestly thought Aleks didn’t give a fuck about them. No goddamn way Brett actually believed that. But he’d said it, and it was in the air now; Aleks couldn’t help but acknowledge it.

He felt split down the middle. The weight of Brett’s anger and disappointment versus the way James smiled at him, how it felt to wake up next to him. Aleks pulled himself to his feet and made his way to the shower, discarding clothes as he went and leaving them where they dropped. After he washed off the sweat and dirt from the park, shaved, got some real sleep…he’d feel better. He’d feel like himself again.

Aleks let the hot water burn across his shoulders and down his back as he rested his forehead against the cool tiles. Brett was wrong about a lot of things but he was right about the most important - Aleks hadn’t been himself since Nova came back from the dead. He could barely remember _how_ anymore. It had just been such a miracle, a real fucking miracle, he never even bothered to _hope_ for it.

It seemed pathetic now, and stupid, because the more he got to know James the less he gave a shit about Nova. There was no comparison. If he’d had a crush on Nova back then, he didn’t want to look close at what he felt for _James_ now.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter.

Aleks adjusted the temperature and tilted his head back, letting the water rush over his face and chest.

Whatever he wanted from James, he’d never get it. Despite all their conversations, the laughter, falling asleep together the night before - it was never going to be anything _real._ It couldn’t be. And not just because of all the bullshit baggage but, he hated to admit it and it _hurt_ to do so, because James didn’t, and would never, feel the same about him.

He just couldn’t.

He finished his shower, staying until the water grew almost too cold to handle, and then dried himself off and collapsed into his bed without bothering to put any clothes on. His sheets were cool, felt good against his skin, and the mattress cradled his sore body.

It was comfortable, familiar, and exactly what he needed while he lost himself in his confusion. He bundled up under his blankets, hid his face in his pillows, and tried not to think about anything at all for as long as his brain would let him.

He might have slept. When he lifted his head from the pillow, it was much darker out, nearer to dusk than it had been when he’d retreated to his bed.

At some point, Celia and Mishka had both found their way to the bed and Celia was sleeping on the pillow next to his face while Mishka stretched out on the other side to him.

He reached up, buried his fingers in Celia’s fur and she started purring before she even woke up, kind of like a truck engine as she lifted her head up to blink at him with mostly closed eyes.

He found himself smiling, calmed by her purring and soft fur and warm eyes. Maybe his crew hated him, maybe James would never want him the same way Aleks wanted him, but at least he had his girls.

“I need to forget him,” he said aloud, and Celia didn’t respond but she blinked at him again, so he took it as an agreement.

“And I need a drink.”

She put her head back down.

Decision made, Aleks rolled out of bed and went to find something to wear to the club.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Halloween :)

The guy was alright. Cute with dark brown eyes, the kind of smile that seemed more used to sarcasm than genuine amusement, and a pair of big, round glasses. More scruff than beard, but he wore it well. As they stood at the bar and spoke, Aleks leaned in closer, let the guy ghost his fingers along his wrist. He couldn’t help but wonder what that scruff would feel like rubbing across his stomach and down between the inside of his thighs. It had been a long time since he kissed someone with facial hair. He wanted to remember what the scratch of it felt like.

The bar side of the place was dark, lit softly with yellows and oranges, and not the part of Khail’s club he usually wound up at after a fucked up day. They were playing _classic rock_ , the bass-driven dance music from the other side of the building muffled just enough to be masked. The music was coming from a fucking real jukebox, not a glorified Spotify machine, which was off-putting for some reason. But this _was_ still Khail’s place so the drinks were strong and the crowd was alright.

He wasn’t there to critique the ambiance anyway.

Aleks wanted to get plastered, to get laid, he wanted to _forget_ , wanted the name of someone he didn’t know in his mouth. It was the only reason he’d come out and it looked like he was more than halfway to accomplishing that goal.

The guy leaned forward to touch his arm, laughing low and raspy, even though Aleks hadn’t said anything especially funny.

It was terrible. His hand was warm and teasing, touch gentle and enticing, a question he wasn’t vocalizing but which Aleks had an answer to. But it was _terrible_.

Aleks threw another shot back and hoped it would help chase away everything in him that said this was a bad idea. That he wouldn’t enjoy it. That he didn’t want to sleep with _anyone._ He wanted to sleep with one very specific person, and this guy wasn’t him.

But he let the touch guide him closer anyway, until they were nearly chest to chest and the guy’s hand fell to press to his lower back for a moment. He tilted his head back slightly to expose the long line of his throat and found a little amusement in how the guy’s eyes fell to look.

“Look, this place is loud,” he said over the music, “do you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, actually,” the guy said, and then his eyes flickered over Aleks’ shoulder and went wide.

Aleks didn’t get the opportunity to see what surprised him - it came to him, instead. He felt the hand on him first, big and warm, pressing gently over his t-shirt, sliding along the small of his back _slowly_ to grab at his hip. The hand’s thumb brushed up under his shirt, over his flushed skin, somehow possessive.

“But I just got here,” James said before Aleks had the chance to punch whoever the hell had the gall to touch him without permission. James’ thumb slid along the skin above the hem of his skinny jeans and Aleks swallowed his tongue.

James smelled good. Not just his cologne, like a campfire or something, and a little like sweat, a little like booze, and probably it was Aleks’ imagination, but he could’ve sworn freshly brewed coffee. The same as he did at the park. He was _hot_ where he was pressed against Aleks’ back and Aleks was still reeling from his sudden appearance when James took the chance to side-step him and slide into the gap between Aleks and his would-be hook-up.

“Uh, hello?” the guy spoke, loud enough to be heard even behind James. Aleks blinked, dropping his eyes down to James’ chest and then back up to his face. James smirked at him, that same smirk he wore every time he thought he’d tripped Aleks up with a particular joke or comment.

The gap hadn’t been very big and James was…close. His eyes were so big, Aleks thought slowly, his mind fuzzy from the drinks but reeling from the turn of events. They were almost black in the light of the bar, too dark for Aleks to really read. He just knew that the way James was looking at him made that terrible, slimy feeling at the other guy’s touch disappear, replaced with something hot and _wanting_ in his belly.

“Hi,” James said, quiet, Aleks reading his lips more than hearing him.

“Hi,” Aleks repeated, because there wasn’t exactly anything else he _could_ say.

“ _Hello!?_ ” the guy said, even louder.

James made a face of annoyance, like they’d been interrupted, and glanced over his shoulder to glare. “Beat it, loser, no one wants you here.”

Aleks pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing. This wasn’t funny. This was _confusing_. Also, James was ruining about fifteen minutes of getting chatted up at this _classic rock_ bar and it was late enough that Aleks doubted he was gonna find a quality someone else to bring home before it just wasn’t worth it anymore.

“Hey, man, _you’re_ the one that’s cutting in here -”

“Seriously.” James turned a little more, until Aleks couldn’t see his face. “Leave.”

After a second, the guy did.

“Hey!” Aleks finally found his voice. “What the actual fuck, dude, I was _talking_ to him -”

“Looks like you were doin’ a little more than _talkin_ ’,” James dropped his voice again, turning back to him with that same dark look in his eyes, “but, hey. I’m here now. Talk to me.”

James was right, he _had_ wanted to do more than _chat_ with that guy, and he wanted to tell James to get lost and go fuck himself, but his arm was still wrapped around Aleks’ waist, his thumb still pressing into his bare skin. Instead, he tripped over the last part of what he’d said.

_Talk to me._

It stoked at the little fire inside him, the one that Aleks had been trying to suffocate,until it spread from where James was touching him, climbing his spine and up his neck to his face. The flush wasn’t just from the hot, packed bar or the warmth of the alcohol, although he wished it was. James was standing so _close,_ keeping those eyes on him and nowhere else, waiting for a response.

“Why would I do something stupid like that? I’m tired of talking to you,” Aleks said, but even he could hear how full of shit it sounded.

James turned to face him more directly and, in doing so, slid his hand back the way it had encircled Aleks. But he kept his palm pressed to the base of his spine, just above his ass, and guided Aleks in as he closed the already almost nonexistent space between them.

“Please,” James smiled. Aleks could feel him breathing. “You love talking to me. Can’t get enough.”

“You’re pretty fuckin’ full of yourself.” Aleks rolled his eyes.

He needed to get away. For James to stop touching him with what felt like intent. But he couldn’t make himself go. Didn’t want to.

“Did that guy look a little like me or was that my imagination?” James huffed a laugh and his breath warmed Aleks’ lips. “Dark hair, scruffy beard…”

“You just described half the men in this city.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe you aren’t as slick as you think.”

“Yeah?” Aleks tried to calm down and fight back the flush creeping over his face. He took a long drink from his glass, an excuse to break away for a moment and maybe gain some space. The drink emptied quick so he set it back on the bar and poked at James’ chest. “Maybe you aren’t as _smart_ as you think, you fucking cockblock. I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now.”

“Really?” James’ hand slowly lowered, just that tiny bit down, until his palm was snug against Aleks’ ass. His voice so full of faux-innocence that it made Aleks go warm again when he said, “What are you in the mood for, then?”

It was a bad idea. A fucking mind-blowingly terrible, dangerous idea and Aleks didn’t experience even a moment of hesitation. A bead of sweat slid down James’ temple, his face awash in the gold light, and he had a hand on Aleks’ ass and the other moved to cup his neck and jaw, and Brett was going to kill him, kill them both, but it was too late to stop it.

This is what all of it had been building up to, at least for him. Not just the last few months but the years before it. And it didn’t matter why James was there, why he wanted it, why he was willing to let Aleks have it.

He told himself _it didn’t matter._

His hands fell heavily to James’ hips and Aleks twisted his fingers into his shirt. At his touch James’ eyes closed and he exhaled deeply, his tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip, and whatever the fuck the consequences were for this, Aleks would pay for it.

Aleks couldn’t think of anything witty to say. No clever comeback or teasing, because James was still touching him, and he was solid and hot under Aleks’ hands.

He’d wanted this for so long. Since the first time at the park. Since finding out James was still alive. Since before that. Way, way before that.

In an instant, Aleks brought his hands to James’ face, dragging him in close for a kiss. Their mouths were already open when they met, no preamble, no buildup other than the last five fucking months. And James groaned, held Aleks tighter and pushed him up against the bar. There were a few whistles, a sigh of exasperation from the bartender that Aleks ignored in favor of holding James’ face close, beard and stubble rough along his palms.

“Come on,” James said into the kiss, and Aleks tasted it. He went easy when James tugged him away from the bar, the open area of the party, the people. He found himself in a hallway, the fucking bathrooms just a few feet away, and then he was shoved against the wall and held there by strong hands at his hips.

They kissed again, because now that they started they couldn’t stop, and Aleks let himself have it. Let himself hold James’ jaw, let himself cup the back of his head, spread his legs a little so James could lean their bodies together. The heat was almost oppressive, the only light a thin golden sheen from a single bulb above their heads. It was good lighting for James, cast him in mysterious shadows every time Aleks looked at him.

“What are we doing,” Aleks said between James kissing his lips and then moving to nip at his neck. Aleks tilted his head back, closed his eyes and held James close even as his brain yelled at him.

“Making out,” James answered, smug and amused, breath warm on Aleks’ neck.

“Ha ha.” Aleks swallowed thickly. “I mean, what are we _doing_ , James?”

“Whatever we want to.” James finally leaned back to look at him properly, and Aleks was surprised to find him nearly as affected as himself. His cheeks were flushed, eyes even darker in this light, and lips bruised red from their kissing. “Same as always. Now let me touch you, Jesus.”

“Not here,” Aleks decided all at once, though he had to suppress a shiver at the thought. “Too open. Come… come back to mine.”

“Yeah?” James hummed, soft and pleased. “You inviting me over?”

“Well, you chased off my lay so you’re gonna have to take some responsibility here. Unless you invite _me_ over.”

“…your place, then.” James brushed another kiss to his jawline. “My crew’s at mine.”

“Mine’s empty.” Aleks had to lean his head down, hiding his face in James’ shoulder until he had regained some semblance of control.

James’ arms were around him again and, when Aleks leaned back to look at him, there was an almost soft smile on his face. And his eyes, the way James was looking at him…

He kissed him again, because he had to, but this time it was slow and careful. Full of nerves and want and the worry of showing too much of his hand. But James didn’t say anything about it. He only let Aleks take his hand, tangle their fingers instead of around his wrist this time, and lead him through the bar and out the front door.

Aleks had his doubts, but James swore he wasn’t too drunk to drive and there wasn’t a lot of arguing to be done when he was still groping at Aleks even has he pushed him into his car. It took three tries of punching his address into James’ phone GPS before James just did it himself, and then kissed him again, short and sweet over the console, before they were taking off.

The ride wasn’t as awkward as Aleks would’ve guessed; but really nothing about James had been what he’d ever have expected. Leaning against the door, Aleks watched him and the little glances James sent his way every once in a while. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said James was _nervous._ Occasionally he’d grimace and close his eyes at red lights and sigh, and without thinking about it, because he wasn’t thinking about _anything,_ he reached out for his hand on the gear shift.

He didn’t look at Aleks, but James stared at their joined hands for a minute. Until the light turned green then yellow and he slammed on the gas before it hit red again.

Instead of pushing him away, James spread his fingers until Aleks’ slotted between them, and they drove the rest of the way like that.

“This is it,” Aleks said, unnecessarily, when the GPS dinged to tell them they had arrived at his place.

James parked in the spot Brett usually reserved for his own car, empty for the night, and turned off the ignition.

They sat quietly for a few seconds, hands still tangled, before they were both surging forward to meet in the middle for another flurry of kisses. James’ hands were warm and kind of everywhere; his neck, shoulders, under his shirt, along his spine, and on his jaw, coaxing his mouth open. His beard was rough where it scraped along Aleks’ cheeks and Aleks suddenly, and vividly, remembered that he wanted to feel that between his thighs. He wondered if James would go down on the first date.

 _Date_.

God, he was a mess.

A mess that was very quickly climbing over the center console to plop into James’ very inviting lap. It was a tight squeeze and James ended up blindly reaching down as they kissed to shove the seat as far back as it would go, give Aleks more room to sit on his thighs and touch his chest through the thin material of his shirt. He was softer than Aleks had expected, and he wanted to touch him more.

And Aleks was _allowed_ to do that. He cradled James’ neck, fingers carding through the small curls at the base of his skull, humming in pleasure as he felt those warm fingers creep under his shirt again, gripping along his hips, up his sides.

“How did -” he gasped when the kiss finally had to be broken, words interspaced with a low groan as James rolled their hips together, “Je-Jesus, _James_ -”

“Come’re,” James whispered, one hand so tight on Aleks’ hip that it felt like a brand, the other tangling in his hair to pull him back into a kiss.

“How did you even,” Aleks tried again when James trailed his lips to his neck, beard rough and exactly what Aleks wanted, “even know I was - was at,” he clutched at James’ hair, at his shoulder, at the wrist of the hand holding his hip, “At the fuckin’ club, _fuck_ ,”

“One of my little birdy told me you were there,” James said against his neck, hot and wet where he was leaving marks with his teeth, “Lookin’ like you wanted ta’ get eaten.”

“Stalker,” Aleks accused - and then nearly squealed when James bit down a little harder. He pinched at his arm, finding his own laughter joining the chuffing James was trying to muffle against his shoulder. “You _asshole_.”

“Maybe.” James leaned back and guided his face down for another kiss - slow, intense, _wanting_ \- “I figured if you were looking, I’d throw my name in the hat.”

“I -” Aleks licked his lips, dizzy with want and the thrill of it, of _James_ under him, “Fuck. Okay, fuck, okay,”

And then they were kissing again, messy and hot and Aleks was going to lose his mind, was going to end up fucking in the front seat of James’ car at this rate, like they were some high school brats instead of grown ass men.

James left his hair alone, dragged that hand down his back and to his pants, where he slipped a few fingers under the waistband. Aleks swallowed the moan that James gave upon realizing Aleks wasn’t wearing anything under his jeans. He’d been expecting a quick fuck in an alley, maybe a back seat hand job situation, so he hadn’t bothered.

“ _Jesus_ ,” James whined, pitch high, and Aleks found himself smiling, more amused than smug.

“What? Never seen a guy go commando before?”

“Shut the fuck up.” James groped his ass, dragging his body down, and Aleks went easy, so fucking easy, because this was exactly what he’d been wanting and he was finally getting it.

At least he _was_ , with James’ tongue down his throat and his hand down the back of his pants and something familiar and hard under his own hand through James’ jeans, until a soft buzzing broke through their sex noises.

“Ignore it,” Aleks mumbled.

“Can’t,” James said, like he was giving up a kidney instead of giving up his grip on Aleks’ ass to fish his phone out of the cup holder.

“Damn it,” James cursed, voice still rough, “it's Anna.”

“Your crew,” Aleks remembered. “Don't answer.”

“Of course I'm gonna answer,” James rolled his eyes and, even while Aleks pouted, put the phone to his ear. “What?”

Aleks watched him, brow together and unhappy. James was already losing the relaxed, pleased look around his eyes. Still, he’d started stroking his thumb along Aleks’ skin and it felt nice, soothing.

Aleks leaned forward, hands on James’ shoulders, and began to flutter light kisses along his neck. James’ voice, previously as normal and smooth as Aleks has ever heard it, stuttered. His fingers itched to let James’ hair down and bury his hands in it, to grind down against him, to see what other ways he could find to coax those noises out of him.

“Jesus, okay,” James said, seemingly to both Anna and Aleks. His hand settled on Aleks’ back again, fisting his shirt and holding him close even though it seemed like he was about to pull them apart. “Yeah. Anna, okay, I’m coming. Yes, I understand, that’s why I’m - yes. See ya in a few.”

“No,” Aleks said stubbornly as soon as the call was ended.

“I’m -” James made a face, cutting himself off and then shaking his head. Aleks had the distinct impression he’d been about to apologize. The hand he moved to Aleks’ waist tightened and James groaned, out of frustration this time. “I gotta go.”

“Fuck that,” Aleks said and spread his thighs a little more, pressing down against him. He took the hand on his waist and held it between both his own, fingers fanning out along the tattoos on James’ forearm. “No you don’t. Come inside.”

He looked at Aleks holding his hand for a long minute then, snatching it away so fast it was startling, James gripped his hips once more with two hands, and thrust upwards just a little, involuntarily, making them both moan. He didn’t _want_ to go, that was obvious, and even though there was no doubt he was interested, it still sent a little spark through Aleks to know it. He took James’ face in his hands, cupping his jaw, and leaned down to kiss him, deep and promising.

“C’mon,” he whispered, but James swallowed thickly and shook his head. Aleks huffed, dropping his hands and leaning away to push the door open with a little more force than necessary, “Fine. Fuck it. Whatever. I’ll just -” He started to climb awkwardly out of his lap and the car both. “Thanks for wasting my fucking time, I guess. What a -”

“Hey.” James caught him by the wrist and pulled him back into him, settling him in his lap again. “Christ, you’re such a fucking _brat.”_

His other hand caught the nape of Aleks’ neck and dragged him down. It felt like a goodnight kiss, not goodbye, and Aleks hated himself for it but he melted, just a little, and let James’ fingers soothe his ruffled feathers.

“You suck,” Aleks said when they broke apart, but it was weak.

James stared up at him, a strange series of emotions flashing across his face that Aleks was too drunk to decipher.

“I really don’t want to go,” he admitted, eyes on Aleks’ face. It made Aleks even hotter and he crushed the urge to squirm under his gaze hard.

“So don’t.”

“You know I gotta.” James frowned, so Aleks kissed him again, soft, until it was gone.

“Like I said.” Aleks brushed his knuckles under one of James’ eyes, felt his warm skin, soaked it in before he had to give it up. “You fuckin’ suck.”

“I know.” James flashed a small smile. “Try not to die of blue balls without me.”

“If you won’t get me off and you won’t let anyone else get me off, I guess I have to do it _myself_ , so,” Aleks started and smirked at the way James’ eyes went impossibly dark.

“Send me pictures,” James whispered against his mouth in a rough, serious voice and Aleks laughed. And James laughed too, his eyes taking in all of Aleks’ face, like it was the first or last time he’d get the chance.

“I’ll think about it.” Aleks finally found the strength to slip out of his lap, and the car, to steady himself on legs that had fallen asleep while he’d been cramped up under the roof of James’ car.

“I’ll be waiting.” James laughed again and Aleks found himself shutting the door for him because James was too busy looking at him to do it himself.

“Goodnight, James, you fucking _tease.”_

Aleks tapped his hand on the hood twice and was already turned away, heading towards his door, when he heard James call, “Goodnight, Aleksandr.”

He didn’t turn back, although he wanted to. James started his car and Aleks knew he was waiting until he was inside before he’d leave.

He’d used his full name - _Aleksandr -_ and the way it made him feel was stupid and dangerous, just like everything else. As he unlocked his door, Mishka already jumping and barking happily from the other side, he thought he wanted to hear James say it again. The way his voice wrapped around his name, the cadence of it, how it made it special, somehow.

Aleks was in trouble, and told Mishka so once he was inside and finally heard James drive away. He’d told Celia he had to forget him then gone and made it worse.

Before he even kicked off his sneakers Aleks felt the buzz in his pocket and was pulling out his phone, sidestepping around Mishka carefully without thinking about it.

James had sent an old school _less than three_ heart emoticon, an eggplant, and the three water drops.

He rolled his eyes, typed, _ur piece of shit tbh. left me hnging._

James texted back immediately.

_Pics or it didnt happen lol_

He hadn’t gotten laid but he was _definitely_ fucked.

Aleks pet Mishka until she settled down, jumping up on the couch and flopping over tiredly. He drank a glass of water and swallowed a handful of Advil to try staving off the hangover waiting for him in the morning. In his bedroom, he tossed his phone on the bed, kicked off his sneakers, removed his socks, pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans.

God, he was still half fucking hard from the car, and he squeezed his cock, closing his eyes and remembering the kisses James’ pressed to his throat. He’d been panting under Aleks’ hands as he touched along the hard length of him over his jeans, fingers fumbling with the button and zip. If his goddamn phone hadn’t rang, Aleks would’ve gotten to _touch him._ To wrap his fingers around his cock, to feel the heat of him, to brush his thumb over the head.

He wondered if James would’ve been wet at the tip for him. Smart money said he wasn’t the silent type, he so rarely seemed to shut the hell up, and he probably made the _best_ noises.

Aleks crawled into his bed, feeling lightheaded from the booze and the _desire_ burning in his gut.

He wanted to make James come. Wanted to press his open mouth to his as he jerked him off, breathing up all the noises he would have made. He wanted it sweaty and messy and frantic; Aleks wanted to feel James’ cum on his palm, between his fingers, wanted to lick it off just to see the look on James’ face.

And it felt frayed, as raw as an exposed nerve, worried he’d never get the chance again.

Aleks wrapped his sweaty, shaking hand around his cock.

James mouth should’ve been on him instead of his own hand. Hot tongue sliding up the side of his dick, lips around the tip, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, until he couldn’t anymore.

_Pics or it didnt happen lol_

Aleks reached out blindly with his free hand, looking for his phone among the sheets. He turned it on, swiping away the messages and voicemail notifications that popped without looking at them.

The first picture was of his chest and the exposed line of his throat, the darkening red marks James had left there. He didn’t wait for a response before sending the second - his hand splayed across his lower torso, fingers brushing down into his pubic hair.

It felt like he’d held his breath until James responded. His chest and lungs and stomach tight.

_holy shit_

His phone vibrated again, a few seconds later.

_youre so fucking hot dude._

Then a longer silence before _,_

_let me see those pretty fingers around your cock_

Aleks’ breath stuttered in his chest and he whined pathetically, glad that James couldn’t hear it but also a little disappointed. Licking his palm, he took his dick in hand again, giving a few firm strokes until his thighs shook and more precum collected at the tip.

He took the picture and sent it without letting himself hesitate. He _wanted_ this, wanted James to know, wanted him to see -

Wanted him to think -

_youre beautiful_

Aleks shook again. Under normal circumstances words like _pretty_ and _beautiful_ would aggravate him, but these weren’t normal circumstances. With one hand he typed out: _please_

James seemed to understand because his next messages said, _touch yourself aleksandr. jerk yourself off and think about my mouth on you instead of your hand._

_i want you to cum for me_

_i wanna see it_

Aleks’ hand moved faster, only stopping for a moment to dig through his nightstand for lube. From James he wanted slow, to be teased and strung out, wanted it to last until he felt like he’d break from it, but James wasn’t there. He needed to come desperately, needed to take a picture of himself afterwards.

 _i know youre close,_ James sent and Aleks felt grateful he didn’t seem to be expecting any responses of his own.

_you felt so good in my lap aleks_

_thighs spread around me_

_i wish i couldve seen your mouth around my dick i was so fucking hard for you dude. still am_

_next time_

_next time it’s going to be my mouth on your cock_

_you want me to make you cum baby?_

_come on aleksandr_

That’s all it took. With a loud cry, Aleks bucked, hips raising off the bed as his orgasm rolled through him. His legs spread on their own, even as he arched and shook, hand moving faster over his slick cock as he spilled hot and thick across his stomach.

He was still panting, still fucked up and wrecked when he grabbed for his phone again, which had slipped from his hand, and took the picture. His flushed cock, lying hard and spent against his pale skin, the mess of his cum, and his hand covered in his release, ropes of it between his fingers, still pressing against the over sensitive head, glimpses of pale thigh.

He sent it, breathless and nervous.

_god thats good. youre so fucking good aleks_

_look at you_

Sleep was taking him without his permission, but he managed to send another text, saying,

_not doing this alone next time. wanna feel u_

_want u_

The last message he read, before falling asleep, was James saying,

_i promise xo_

-

Aleks wouldn’t say he was _excited_ to go to the café, today.

He wouldn’t _say_ it.

Still, parking was a little bit of an ordeal, because he’d sent pictures of his real, actual dick to _Nova_ and he was about to go into the café like that hadn’t happened. He was about to _see_ him, like they hadn’t almost hooked up last night. Like he hadn’t had to rub fuckin’ cream on his _face_ because of beard burn.

So yes, maybe he pulled in weird and had to back out twice to straighten his car. And yes, he stared at himself in his rearview, tried to mentally get his shit together, _prepare_ himself or some shit.

But it was only because he’d accidentally on purpose sexted with _James “Nova” Wilson_ , and he was about to go drink coffee in the shop like nothing had happened.

“You’re being fuckin’ - you’re being _stupid_ ,” he muttered to himself, as he grabbed his phone off its cord and shoved out of his car. It was the first morning in a while that his phone wasn’t blown up with notifications from his crew, and that dampened his weird excitement down enough that he did pause and lean against his car, thumb to the texts he’d ignored last night in favor of James’. It was just one from Trevor, a short string of words about how he and Brett needed to work their differences out. He closed the app and shoved his phone in his pocket.

He _knew_ that. He…he was working on it, _would_ work on it. He just needed to figure out what he was doing with James before he told Brett anything. He’d overreact, he’d see it as a _betrayal_ , and it _kind of_ was but not _really_. James wasn’t a threat, hadn’t been for months, and Aleks _knew_ that, even if Brett didn’t. He’d make him see, just…just after he saw James again, talked about last night, and figured out what it had meant for _them_.

He was a little earlier than usual, the last of the rush still lingering at the counter for their to-go cups or at the front tables with their empty plates, but he made it up to the register without too much trouble.

It was Michael again, looking pretty chipper for ten in the morning on a Saturday, and he gave Aleks a once over before he’d even reached the counter.

“Someone had a good night.”

“Who?” Aleks sniffed. “Not me.”

“Bullshit.” Michael grinned. “You’re hungover but you’re _here_. You had a good night.”

“I don’t need this analyzing shit, Sherlock. Just coffee, _please_ ,” Aleks grumbled, yanking his sunglasses out of his pocket and balancing them on his face to hide his eyes.

“And a cinnamon bun,” Michael added, “to celebrate.”

“ _Fine_ , and a _cinnamon bun_ ,” Aleks groaned and hated that he had to fight off a smile.

“Go take a seat, loser.” Michael tapped the counter and accepted the five that Aleks handed over. “I’ll bring it over.”

“You’re so smug, oh my God,” Aleks groaned louder and left the counter to take his place at one of the tables. He sat facing the door, but _only_ because that was where the most comfortable chair was, not because he was waiting, because he wasn’t some fuckin’…Some fuckin’ idiot who wanted to see anyone in particular. Just a comfortable chair and some coffee and a cinnamon bun, that’s all he wanted from life.

The street outside was busy, the way it always was in this part of the city, and Aleks stared out the window trying unsuccessfully to stop his leg from bouncing under the table. He thought to waste time on his phone until Michael brought over his order, but Trevor’s text still sat unanswered and…James’ texts were still sitting in there, too; the pictures, the things Jameshad said to him, and he needed to avoid that shit at all costs. It would help in absolutely no way to have any of that fresh in his mind when James showed up.

Not that Aleks was sure he would. Or hoping to see him. Or was waiting. All he was waiting for was his coffee and fucking cinnamon bun, and maybe he’d even be able to get them both down before his restless leg bounced them right off the table.

“Here we go,” Michael whistled, barely a second later and came over balancing a steaming mug and plate on a small tray in one hand. “Enjoy, fucker,”

He placed Aleks’ order down and patted him on the back as he passed. Aleks was taking his first bite when the bell above the door chimed to announce a new person.

“Oh, hey,” Michael said, and Aleks was suddenly filled with so many nerves that he couldn’t even make himself finish biting down.

“And who is _this?_ ” Michael continued, and that finally made Aleks look up.

Standing in the doorway was a familiar face - James - and…a not so familiar face; a cute woman with dark, curly hair and a shy smile. James had an arm around her shoulder and a way too excited grin on his face when he said, with greater gusto than was all that necessary: “This is my girl, Anna. I told you about her. I wanted Geoff to meet her, too.”

The bun, sweet and light just a moment ago, turned to ash on Aleks’ tongue.

 _My girl_.

Dropping the bun to its plate, Aleks told his insides to calm down. Pressed a hand to his leg to stop it from shaking. He’d misheard, that was all. Because James _didn’t_ have a girl. Wasn’t the type to run around on someone. He _couldn’t._

“Oh shit,” Michael said, his voice light and carrying the way it always did, “the famous Anna. You’ve come up once or fifty times.”

The famous Anna.

Michael and James were laughing together across the shop, talking loud enough for Aleks to hear what they were saying if he’d bothered to listen, but he only had eyes and ears for _her_. The famous Anna. A girl whom James had spoken about to Michael, brought to meet Geoff, someone Aleks knew he respected and liked and wanted to impress, even though he’d never admit it. A girl he’d never mentioned to Aleks in all their time together aside from a name drop here or there.

The famous Anna _. My girl._

His throat felt tight, like he was being choked, and Aleks turned towards the window, away from James, away from Michael and the girl and Geoff who he could hear coming out the back. He tried not to listen. To Geoff’s, _hey motherfucker, you finally brought your girly friend, huh,_ and the friendly hug he knew was happening. To James introducing Anna again, her nervous but enthusiastic hello.

She sounded nice. Aleks felt sure he was going to be sick.

“In the back?” Geoff said, directing James and Anna to follow him, and telling Michael to just bring out an entire pot for the table.

There was a knife in Aleks’ gut and, every moment that passed, it twisted.

Aleks wasn’t looking but he could feel the group move closer, they’d have to walk by him, and if he was very, very lucky James wouldn’t notice him. The idea of him seeing whatever the fuck was showing on his face…

But Aleks had never been especially lucky.

“Hey, man!” Geoff greeted cheerfully, gripping Aleks’ shoulder for a moment as they passed.

Aleks looked up, tried to answer, but his eyes met James’ and everything else _died_ around him. A frown tugged at the corner of James’ mouth, eyes dark and unreadable _,_ and Aleks forced himself to look away before his face could betray him. His heart beat wildly, his blood running hot with too much for him to feel at once. He wanted to kiss James, to make him explain, to fucking _kill_ him.

But he just sat there silently, turned away, and James followed Geoff and Anna to the back without a word.

He heard the back door close, Geoff’s voice disappearing along with the happy couple.

Okay.

Okay. He could handle this. It wasn’t even a night together - a few drunken kisses at a bar, some jokes from across a room, a couple months’ worth of meet ups at the park and a few hazy hours passed out next to each other, a few shared looks that Aleks had thought _meant something_ \- but no, no they hadn’t. Nothing had. James wasn’t his _boyfriend_ , was never going to be, and so it didn’t matter.

Aleks felt the weight of his phone tucked in the pocket of his jeans. Thought of the text from Trevor. All the fights he’s had with Brett over the last few months. His most recent words rang in his ears.

Maybe they’d had _something_ , just not the way Aleks had thought? Maybe James had gotten exactly what he wanted the last few months. Twisted Aleks all up, drove a wedge between him and his crew, settled back into a small piece of his old territory, made a few connections Aleks had allowed him to make without fighting back.

And Aleks had invited into his apartment, what amounted to his crew’s headquarters.

He had pictures.

Oh, Christ, there were _pictures_.

Intimate, embarrassing, _life-ruining_ pictures.

Brett was gonna kill him. Lindsey was gonna kill him. He was gonna kill himself.

What had he been - it was so _obvious,_ now -

“-leks?” Michael said, loud as if it wasn’t the first time, and waved a hand close enough to his face that Aleks’ gaze snapped to him, “Aleks, dude, what the hell? Are you okay?”

”Yeah,” he said stiffly as he stood, his chair knocking back against the wall, “I need to go.”

“Ain’t gonna stick around to meet the competition?” Michael said, and it sounded like a joke but it felt like a stab to the gut.

“No.” He said in the same tone, and tried to get around him to the door. Michael caught his arm lightly but hard enough to stop him, and Aleks felt like a livewire. Cut and snapping against the road.

“Seriously?” Michael frowned, tightening his grip a little, and Aleks knew the concern was real but he was… raw, embarrassed and sick. He needed to go home, hide from the world, his crew. Build everything back up somewhere that wasn’t - here.

“ _Seriously,”_ Aleks mocked and twisted his arm to pull away but Michael held him tighter instinctively. “Let me the fuck go.”

“Hey, what the hell, man.” Michael frowned harder, eyebrows pinching. “You’re - _off_. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s none of your business,” Aleks snapped and, really, he hadn’t meant to raise his voice - but now the people in the shop were staring.

He’d come in a little early and so had James and the place wasn’t _crowded_ , but there was more than his usual audience - a couple clusters around the corners, a few pairs, one or two singles flipping through books along the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan peek out from the kitchen, face unsure.

“Aleks -”

The hold Michael had on his arm tightened again, in a friendly, _trying to understand_ way, and he moved like he wanted to throw his other hand in the mix. As if there was something about Aleks he wanted to steady.

“ _For real_ , man! Lay the fuck off!”

He hadn’t meant to do it, really. Michael was _touching_ him, and wouldn’t let him leave, and he couldn’t stop wondering if James could see them. If he was watching and laughing and fucking _satisfied_ that Aleks was losing his goddamn mind. He brought his free hand up and shoved at Michael’s shoulder, just hard enough to cause him to take a step back, and immediately felt a cold wave of dread wash over him.

“Alright,” Michael lowered his voice, but his face had gone taut and serious. “Listen. I don’t wanna have to get mad in front of all these people, because it’s obvious that you’re upset and clearly aware how badly you just fucked up. So, hey, let’s both of us calm down a little, okay?”

“…yeah.” Aleks swallowed around the thick ball in his throat, the dread of just shoving Mogar Jones enough to clear the haze of _gotta get out, gotta fuckin’ get out_ from his brain. “Sorry. I’m just. Look, dude, I really need to get out of here.”

“So let’s go.” Michael lightened the hold he had on Aleks’ arm, from a squeeze to a gentle pressure, “That’s your car in front of the window, right? Let’s go chill for a sec.”

“It’s really okay, dog.” Aleks breathed in for a few seconds, and then out until he’d forced his chest to relax, “I’m just - being an idiot. Was being an idiot.”

“It’s my break. And I’m not really _asking,_ anyway.”

Aleks nodded, because Michael hadn’t picked him up by the throat and body slammed him into the table for that little violent fit and he owed him for it, and waited long enough for Michael to collect a water bottle and a cake slice from the display before following him outside.

He’d left his car unlocked, because no one was gonna grand theft auto in front of the Kingpin’s place, and Michael collapsed into the passenger seat without any hesitation, set his water bottle in a cup holder and the plate of cake on his lap with his little plastic fork. Aleks had left his coffee and bun inside, but what he had eaten felt heavy in his stomach, already.

“So,” Michael said after he swallowed his first bite, “what’s crawled up your ass and died?”

“Nothing,” he repeated, and then looked down when Michael shot him a glare.

“Try again. Do I need to play detective here?”

“Look, it’s personal, okay? Like…like, _personal-_ personal.”

“So I am playing detective, fuckin’ cool.” Michael tapped his fork against his plate thoughtfully, like Aleks hadn’t said anything at all. “You come in lookin’ like you had the best lay of your life, and then James comes in and all of a sudden it’s like someone took a piss in your lemonade. I thought you two were, you know - that you two had an understanding.”

“Yeah, well.” Aleks took a deep breath, “I did, too. Fuck, I did, too.”

“So what _happened_ ,” Michael demanded, “You were floating on rainbows until James and Anna -” He cut himself off, comprehension dawning. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Aleks leaned back in his seat, hands clenching his wheel tight. “Yeah, okay?”

“I take it you two maybe were a little more than…understanding each other.”

“Oh, yeah, we were understanding each other real fuckin’ good in his car last night,” Aleks spat, suddenly furious. “He - He came onto _me!_ He came onto _me_ , and he - we - _I_ -”

“And now he’s prancing around with his girl on his arm,” Michael finished for him, wincing. “Shit, Aleks.”

“I’m an _idiot_ ,” he said and maybe his voice cracked a little but it was just Michael. “Brett’s been on my ass for weeks about them advancing, about all kinds of shit, and Lindsey kept saying I was soft because it was - it was _Nova_ , you know, but I just said they were being stupid and -” he had to stop, take another breath. “Brett’s going to skin me if he finds out.”

“I’m sure he’ll skin James first,” Michael says with a comforting voice. “But it’s not a big deal, right? What was it - a night? A couple nights?”

“Just…just last night. We didn’t - nothing happened, you know. Physically.”

“See?” Michael reached over, patted his knee. “Nothin’ that can’t be backed up. Live and learn, right? I didn’t think James was that kinda guy, but it’s best you know now, right? No harm, no foul.”

Aleks covered his face with his hands, groaned as loud as he could, and leaned forward until his head hit the wheel. He mumbled his next words into his palms, too ashamed to say them any louder.

“What?” Michael nudged him. “Speak up, blondie, I’m not a mind reader.”

“I _said_ ,” Aleks sat up, hoped his voice didn’t actually sound as vulnerable as he thought it did, “there are _pictures_ , Michael. On his phone. A lot of fucking pictures of _me_.”

Michael…didn’t respond at first. Then, with a heavy sigh, he settled an arm around Aleks’ shoulders and pulled him against his side in a comforting side-hug. “I’m sorry. Jesus, man.”

They were only pictures and, sure, you could see his tattoos and there was no doubt _who_ they were of, but maybe ultimately it didn’t matter. It was just another bullet point on the list of shit Nova had gotten him to do and say, willingly, throwing his crew and dignity all under the same fucking bus. He’d have to pull himself together - see Brett and come clean about everything and then they’d be able to figure it out. Brett _was_ going to kill him, but after that they’d come up with a plan. Hopefully.

For now, Aleks let himself slump against Michael. Even turned towards him, although it made him feel stupid and weak and young _._ But it was Michael, and they were in his own fucking car, and if he just wanted to let someone comforthim for once, he was going to.

Aleks let himself have it as long as he could before pulling away, but Michael kept his arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders, his left hand idly playing with the longer strands of blond hair. It was familiar and Aleks sighed when he realized why; he’d seen Michael do this to Gavin.

“It’s gonna be okay, you know,” he said, and started eating his cake again. “Shit just,” Michael gestured to the coffee shop with his fork, “things just work out.”

Aleks didn’t correct him, didn’t bother reminding him that his crew was the exception. Things rarely worked out for anyone in the game. He didn’t have to look far to be reminded of that. The wreckage of the Hub was the cause of _all_ of this.

As empty as the words were, they still managed to make him feel a little calmer. He could handle this James thing. This _Nova_ problem _._ If not the way he should have months ago, in a new way. Find some fucking path that would work without his cumshot pictures winding up on a billboard downtown or some shit.

Michael was still close, still keeping Aleks close and playing with his hair, when through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the shop two dark eyes caught his. James was standing at the table where Aleks had been sitting, his hand wrapped around the back of the chair, and even from so far away the tension in his arms, across his shoulders, and in his jaw was evident. He wasn’t smiling.

Aleks had seen that face before. Before the Hub collapsed, before Nova died, back before _anything,_ when Aleks was nobody, he’d seen that face. He’d seen it in the warehouse with the Christ Punchers. And he remembered again who James really was. He wasn’t the cute guy at the park or the funny dude at the coffee shop or the, God, an almost hook-up. He was Nova and he’d burn the neighborhood, the whole city, to the ground before he let Aleks keep even a piece of it. The fact he’d been able to make him forget that was terrifying.

He wasn’t exactly glaring, but there was a danger that Aleks felt even so far from him.

“I should go,” he said, because he should. “I need to go… talk to my crew, get shit together. You know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Michael finished off his cake, though he offered the last bite to Aleks before eating it himself when it was refused. “Go…do your stuff.”

“Thanks,” Aleks said dryly, and then a little more genuine, “thanks. For, you know. This. And not splattering me into a table.”

“Eh, we all have our off days.” Michael shrugged back, looking amused. “If I murdered every fuck who was having a bad day, we wouldn’t be runnin’ no coffee shop, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, well.” Aleks smiled, lips twitching. “Still. I might not be around for a while, but I promise it’s not you, it’s me,”

“Oh, you asshole.” Michael nudged him, amused but a little sad. “Don’t let yourself get chased out. This is a neutral establishment.”

“Just…just until I get my head back on,” Aleks promised, even though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Yeah, this shop _had_ been a neutral establishment. It was kind of like his safe zone, where he could go when he didn’t want to have to watch his back or worry or think about things too deeply. Now, he was pretty sure every table, chair, and mug was going to remind him of James - of Nova. Or the myriad of fucking mistakes he’d made.

Who knew one night would be the tipping point after so long.

“Yeah, okay,” Michael pushed the door open and went to get out, only to stop and drop back into place. With firm hands, he cupped both sides of Aleks’ face and pulled him forward for a wet, smacking kiss to his forehead.

“You’re gonna live, kid. It’s gonna work out, it always does. Trust me.”

And then Michael was gone. Aleks watched him go, but didn’t look back inside, didn’t wait to see if James was still watching.

Instead, he started his car, flipped his sunglasses over his eyes, and left the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

Brett _and_ Lindsey’s car were in his parking lot when he got home. Aleks took a second to decide if he was relieved they were already there and he could just spit it out, or terrified that he didn’t have the chance to cobble together exactly what he was going to say.

It wasn’t until he was pulling in next to Lindsey’s little yellow hatchback that he noticed the new dent to the bumper, though it was big enough and deep enough to be pretty eye catching at the right angle. There were even scrapes of a dark paint in some places and one of her tail lights had been shattered. Jesus.

He pulled his phone out, noticed that he’d got another text from Brett on the drive home.

_get home asap_

With a tight throat and a rising sickness in his gut, Aleks shoved his phone away and gripped the steering wheel. He took a deep breath, telling himself not to panic, but he glanced again at Lindsey’s fucked up car and couldn’t stamp it down. The crew was inside - if Brett and Lindsey were inside, for sure Trevor was too - and there was no more running or hiding from this.

The way Nova looked at him from the _Brew’s_ window was all he could see when he closed his eyes. His chest _ached_ but he couldn’t think about it. Not now. Not with his crew inside and the consequences for the last few months waiting for him.

As he climbed out of the car, his phone vibrated, then three more times rapidly, but he didn’t bother to look. Getting closer to Lindsey’s car he could see the back window was cracked as well. His stomach sank as he picked up speed and jogged the rest of the way, taking the stairs two at a time. A thousand ugly thoughts pushed their way into his head but he couldn’t grasp on to any of them.

All Aleks knew was that shit was falling apart.

Everything was burning and he had to find a way to put out the fires for once instead of starting them. He couldn’t bring himself to take even a second to steady himself, his worry for Lindsey and determination, anxiety, fucking _fear_ over talking to them all about Nova propelling him forward. Right into his kitchen, the open space that led to the living room, where - _thank_ _God_ \- the three of them were sitting.

“Lindsey,” he said breathlessly. He’d say he needed to exercise more, but he knew it was the panic closing up his airway more than the stairs or the walk.

She was sitting on the couch, a dark bruise along the temple facing him but seemingly otherwise unharmed and he felt a fraction of his fear dissipate. Nothing seemed to be broken. No bullet wounds to speak of.

“Jesus Christ.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “Fucking - your car, the - what the fuck happened?”

Brett lowered his phone deliberately slow, no doubt having been the one calling him, and his face was icy when he said, “ _Someone_ sent a tail after Lindsey.”

“Are you okay?” Aleks hurried to her side, past Brett’s freezing aura, so he could sit on the fucked up coffee table and get a better look at the bruise. She tilted her head toward him easily, wincing a little.

“I’m fine.” She shrugged. “Just smashed my face a li’l bit. No biggie.”

“No biggie, she says,” Brett scoffed under his breath and Aleks could hear the murder in it. “They chased her around the city for two goddamn hours. You could have been run off the road, Lindsey. You could have _died_.”

“Well, I didn’t, so,” she huffed and crossed her arms, “so just hush up about it, okay? I’m fine, Brett, they just bumped my car and got runnin’ when I swung by a precinct.”

“Who -” Aleks looked between them, at Trevor where he sat stone-faced on the loveseat and Lindsey’s big light eyes. “Who the fuck would go after _Lindsey_? No offense, but you’re not exactly the face of our operation.”

“I can think of a few names,” Brett said darkly and Aleks swallowed. His hands dropped to his lap, away from where they were almost touching Lindsey’s face.

“I,” he started to say, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

Aleks stood up so he could look at all three of them at once, overwhelmed with the urge to just tell them, put it all on the table. Let them know what had been going on and how fucked up he’d made things. They were all watching him and waiting.

“Something happened last night -“ He paused and shook his head. That wasn’t right.

Brett’s stare was a bottomless well, inky black and empty, but he said, “What? What happened?” and Aleks could have sworn he already knew.

“After the Christ Punchers, Ja - Nova, he gave me his number. And after that, things just - they fucking snowballed, man.”

If he actually wanted to get through this he couldn’t look at Brett any longer, so he stared at nothing: the empty space between Brett and Lindsey. Mishka’s dog bed tucked in the corner of the room. His palms were sweaty and there was a hot, consuming flush creeping up the back of his neck.

There was nothing else to do but keep going.

“I was with Nova when I missed dinner. And last night - nothing, nothing _happened_ , but - between running into him at park and the Brew and, uh, texting…” Aleks stopped speaking. None of them were saying anything. They hadn’t moved, Aleks wasn’t sure they were even breathing.

All three of them were just listening and allowing him to dig his own grave.

“I let him get close. I thought -” Aleks sighed, remembered the way James looked at him in the park, the things he’d said, and the way he touched him in the car. Soft and needy and like he was someone special. “It doesn’t matter what I thought.”

“Explain this better,” Brett said roughly.

With a deep breath, Aleks finally closed his burning, wet eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and pointer to brush away the humiliating evidence of his guilt and hurt.

“I’ve,” he started, and took another breath, “it’s not - it wasn’t, I didn’t _give him anything_ , not really, except - just me, just _about_ me, I swear, Brett.”

“Aleks, fucking _say it_ ,” Brett nearly snarled and Aleks flinched, covering his eyes completely with his palms so he wouldn’t have to see their faces.

Brett wasn’t going to allow him to walk around this. They knew him, knew what he was saying, but the only path was right down the middle.

“I’ve been fucking around with Nova for about five months.”

The noise Brett made sounded more than half animal, tore from his throat like Aleks had yanked it out himself. He tried to hear past it, but all he found was a soft, disbelieving gasp from Lindsey and silence from Trevor. It all hurt, ricocheted around the inside of his head until it was too loud to stand. He moved his hands up to drag his fingers through his hair, feeling frayed and torn open.

“Keep fucking going,” Brett barked. It sounded like a threat.

“Nothing _happened_. He never asked about you guys or - or our plans, or anything like that. I wouldn’t have, I fucking _swear_ , I would never have told him even if he asked. It was just _talking_ until…until last night.”

“And what happened last night,” Brett ground out, “while a member of your crew was being chased down?”

Aleks had to blink hard a few times, trying his best to get around the lump in his throat and the incessant burning in his eyes.

“We - me and you - had that fight, and I was - fuck, I was just really - I was _upset_ so I went to Khail’s bar. To, I dunno, get plastered and pick someone up. Get over him. I knew he had me fucked up and I was fucking our crew up because of it. I thought if I could just - but, he was there and wanted me. And it just happened so fast, dude, and -”

“And you telling me you were _fucking him_ while Lindsey - “

“No!” Aleks nearly shouted with the need to deny it, his heart pounding. “No, we didn’t, okay, he _left_. He got -” and at that, he paused, his body feeling numb, shoulders dropping as realization hit. “Got…a call. From his crew. He left.”

The tension in Brett’s face disappeared and was replaced by a _nothingness_ that was chilling. Brett had come to the same conclusion Aleks had, and now that he saw it, he couldn’t _not_ see it. It made sense. It might have been the only thing that made sense.

“You don’t think -”

Aleks almost jumped out of his fucking skin. He’d forgotten Trevor was in the room.

“You think Nova, like, seduced Aleks or whatever to distract him from his evil plan to kill Lindsey?” he said and Aleks slowly moved to face him, barely believing what he was hearing. “That doesn’t make sense, dude.”

He was met with silence from the rest of them. Trevor, never really one to back down when he thought he had logic on his side, kept going. “Why would it matter if Aleks was distracted or not?” he said to Brett. “You and me weren’t and we couldn’t help her either. Why would he spend… all that time with Aleks, like, all that effort, dude, just to keep him busy for a night so he can go after Lindsey?”

“This is all pretty insulting talking about me like I’m totally worthless to this crew, thanks,” Lindsey said, but it was light and she was almost smiling and it rattled something in Aleks’ chest. He didn’t _deserve_ these people.

He had to turn away when Brett reached out to touch her hair.

“It’s more complicated than that, Trev,” Brett said as he moved away from Lindsey. His voice hardened when he turned it back on Aleks. “It’s not about distracting Aleks. It’s about humiliating him. About getting him wrapped around his fucking finger and tearing us apart.”

Aleks held Brett’s glare silently. He was right and there wasn’t shit to be said about it. No arguing.

“How would you have felt, Aleks” Brett asked, voice hoarse and dangerous, “if you two’d been fucking as he had Lindsey killed? Right under your nose.”

“He…wouldn't have…” Aleks tried, but he was shaken to his foundation. Wouldn't he? Hadn't Nova been known for this kind of shit? He’d always liked to play with his food.

“What does it matter?” Trevor broke in again. “It's over now. Lindsey's okay, and whatever Aleks and Nova were doing is done. What's he gonna do, spread around that he and Aleks' _talked a lot_. That they almost fucked? It's done.”

“Not…” Aleks swallowed, flushing hot and red, “not exactly.”

“What the fuck else, Aleks? What else could you have possibly fucking done?”

“We…on his, I mean, we -”

“Spit it _out_ -”

“I sent him pictures!” Aleks snapped back, that same humiliation somehow seeping even deeper, “He’s got…fucking intimate pictures of me, okay!?”

“Aleks!” Lindsey said in the most scandalized voice Aleks had ever heard from her, and Aleks covered his face again, couldn’t meet Brett’s eyes.

“I know,” he said miserably, and Trevor made as sympathetic a noise as he was able.

Brett didn’t say anything.

Aleks managed to regain his composure, drop his hands to face the anger like a fuckin’ man, at least. Except Brett’s face was still that icy cold blankness. Even his eyes were hard, more a blizzard than an inferno.

“Are you…” Aleks crossed his arms, braced himself. “Say something. Please.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Brett shrugged, seeming to melt all at once.

It wasn’t in forgiveness; it was in disappointment. Aleks could see it in the way he looked at him - pity and what Aleks could only describe as distaste. Brett had…never looked at him like that before, and it cut deeper than any of his yelling had before, a wound worse than Nova’s betrayal.

“I made a mistake when I trusted you to be objective about Nova, to put us first. Hell, maybe it was a mistake to start a crew with you in the first place.”

“Brett,” Lindsey snapped, sounding even more surprised than she had about the pictures, but Brett didn’t even look at her, didn’t take his eyes off Aleks.

Aleks, blinking rapidly, tried not to look away.

“He’s never wanted to come through with his promises, Linz. He’s never wanted to leave this place, this fuckin’ graveyard for his stupid crush on that idiot. Nothing we do could have convinced him to leave or expand or grow, he just wanted to _rot_ here. And now he has Nova, but he has the real fucking Nova, not the one he thought he knew because he saw him chase off a few dealers.”

“Brett.” Aleks wiped his face again, trying to ignore the wetness. “I don’t know…I don’t know what to do. How do I fix this?”

“You don’t,” Brett said simply and pointed at the floor. “You stay right here, in this apartment, and you stay the fuck out of Immortal business until I take care of Nova. And then I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

Aleks finally broke, face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

“Oh, geez,” Trevor said quietly, “Brett, what the fuck, dude.”

“Enough,” Brett ordered sharply, and it was a final sort of tone that he only used when he was really putting his foot down. “Neither of you tell him _anything_ about what we’re doing to deal with this. He’s out of the circle, at least until Nova is handled.”

Aleks bit back anything he thought to say, just nodded once. There was nothing else _to_ do. He’d figured this might happen, that Brett might finally snap and just wash his hands of Aleks and all of his baggage.

Neither Lindsey nor Trevor had anything to say to that, because there was no arguing with that tone, even from Lindsey.

Brett walked out first, then Lindsey and Trevor, just like the fight from the day before. He felt Trevor stop by where he was standing, shaking with the held-back emotions, but he didn’t say anything, just patted his shoulder and followed the rest of his crew.

It left Aleks alone.

The door closed and Aleks sank to the arm of his couch, still trying to keep his emotions in check with his hands pressed to his face. Too much had happened in too short of a time but, even though he was standing in the center of it all, Aleks still felt as if he was running to catch up. Less than twenty-four hours ago he’d thought he could make things right with his crew, that he could have James, and be happy, and it would all be easy.

He really was fucking stupid.

There was no one left to hear it but the sob that fell out of him was embarrassing anyway. At the sound, Mishka began digging against his bedroom door, wanting out, so Aleks choked back the emotion pressing at his seams and went to open the door. When he put his back to the wall, sliding down to the carpet, she shouldered her way between his legs to lick his chin.

It made sense but he didn’t know how to convince himself all those moments with James had been a lie. Not because it wasn’t possible, but because he wanted to keep them so badly. Wanted them to mean something.

James had _promised._

But promises didn’t mean anything. Aleks had made promises too. To his crew. To Brett. And he’d broken them all.

-

On one hand, Aleks knew it was a punishment. He deserved it - hell, most crews would have handled this will a bullet to the head for this kinda betrayal. House arrest wasn’t bad and, really, it was more self-imposed than enforced by Brett. He didn’t have guards at his door, a sniper on the roof across the street, no fuckin’ ankle bracelets.

Just Brett pointing at the floor and telling him not to leave which...well. The memory of that alone was more effective than any of those other things would have been. He _didn’t_ leave. For the first two days he hadn’t wanted to. Because it was what he deserved, and anyway, Brett wasn’t convinced Nova wouldn’t come after him next now that the jig was up.

On the other hand, after a week if he didn’t get out of this apartment he was going to light the whole complex on fire and take care of the loose end he’d become his fucking self.

It wasn’t just Aleks that needed to stretch his legs. Mishka was tired of the little five by five patch of grass at the bottom of the stairs, she wanted to get out and walk, and so did Aleks. If he spent another goddamn hour lying on the bed or couch watching Netflix his muscles would begin to atrophy. So he attached her leash and grabbed his phone and left.

Los Santos could be eerily quiet in the middle of the night, but Aleks always sort of liked it, and it felt good to just be _outside_. He walked for a while down some of the smaller, residential streets, in the opposite direction of the park, spending most of his time standing around while Mishka sniffed around trees and garbage cans.

He couldn’t stop looking at his phone.

It was fucking gross and pathetic how many times over the last week he’d opened up his contacts just to stare at the little smiling shit emoji he’d programmed in for James. That he still wanted to text him. How if he closed his eyes long enough he could still feel the ghost of a warm hand on the small of his back in that bar, and the scratch of his beard when they kissed, and his laugh, not at the café with everyone around, but in the park with the dogs or in the front seat of his car. He’d been so sure it was real. Had wanted to keep it all, that _what if_ , a possibility of something.

That’s where he was, lost in his thoughts, when Mishka barked, high-pitched and nervous. She crouched, staring out into the darkness, growling, and Aleks curled his fingers tightly around her leash to pull her closer, and barely had the entire, “What is it, girl?” out before he was struck right between his shoulder blades.

The sound it made gave it away. It was the clink. The hollowness of an aluminum bat

Mishka’s leash was wrapped around his fingers - otherwise, his suddenly lax hand would have dropped it. The blow sent him to the ground, the unexpectedness of the pain enough to drag a cry from him before he’d even thought to stay quiet.

Mishka didn’t hesitate - one second she was barking and then she was trying to lunge out of his hold and toward the attacker, snarling and yapping.

Aleks groaned, rolling his shoulders out as he flopped around to get eyes on whoever had hit him.

It was some guy he’d never fuckin’ seen before, big and muscled with more tattoos on his face than Geoff had on both hands. He held the bat at the ready, face kind of smug but drawn tight and serious. He took a swing at Mishka but she retreated to Aleks’ side, still howling at the stranger for all that she was too scared to attack.

“Jesus, dude,” he managed, his shoulder aching. He didn’t think anything was broken but _damn_ if it wasn’t going to bruise like a bitch. “Warn a man before you sucker bat him.”

“Sorta takes the fun out of the sneak attack,” The guy popped the bat on his palm once, twice, and then lifted it again and swung down at Aleks.

He shifted just in time to catch it with his upper arm instead of his face, and collapsed against the sidewalk. Mishka was howling and whining, Aleks could see her feet dancing at the corner of his eye like she wanted to get closer. The weight of his gun was pressing heavily against his side, and he tried to remember what Brett told him once about sweeping someone’s legs out when they got you on the ground. But all those things were too far away for him to grasp, and if he made a move for anything he suspected he’d be dead before getting there. One good crack in the head with that fucking thing was all it would take.

“Sneak attacks are for pussies,” Aleks spat, biting back a groan and swapping it for a grin. He rolled onto his back. “Pussy.”

The guy sneered down at him and reached down to grab the front of Aleks’ hoodie, lifting him off the ground easily. He was bigger than Brett, taller and more solid with biceps wider than Aleks’ entire fucking head, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if he wasn’t. He’d gotten him down with the first swing, knocked the wind out of him, and there was no way he’d be able to win this. The trick would be surviving it.

The guy rammed the top of the barrel into Aleks’ gut then dropped the bat to use his fists instead, which wasn’t much better. The guy knew a good punch from a bad one and his knuckles felt like being hit across the face with a fucking brick. Aleks dropped to the ground, his mouth filling with blood from his teeth cutting into his cheek and his nose giving up the fight to stay un-busted.

Fuck it, he thought, and reached behind him to grab his gun. Fuck this guy. Fuck everything: fuck his crew, and Nova, and all of Los Santos. Win or lose at least he wouldn’t die like a bitch.

Aleks Marchant survived by nobody but his girls.

“Go Mishka,” he said, wet with blood as it poured off his lip, but she just whined and barked louder.

His shoulder wasn’t broken, but it was probably dislocated, because he could barely move it, couldn’t get his body to work, and before he could get his fucking wits about him to realize it, the asshole picked up the bat again.

The next swing glanced the side of head and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The only reason it hadn't killed him was Mishka. She’d leapt forward, sinking her teeth into the dude’s leg, and his aim had shifted as he’d angrily yelled in pain.

There was a good two solid minutes after that Aleks could barely remember. He knew Mishka was still there and when the guy went to hit _her_ with the bat, Aleks shoved her away and took the hit intended for her skull. He thought maybe he felt it shatter something in his arm but he couldn’t be sure. He knew the guy flipped him over onto his back and brought his foot down on him hard, a few times, to the ribs and then his gut. And that he did get his gun out eventually, but there were three of the guy when he looked up, and when he fired, he missed. The gun was deftly slapped out of his hand after that.

“You’re not exactly making this any fun.” The guy aimed another kick at Mishka that had her cowering by Aleks’ side, the scent of dog piss and trash from their surroundings permeating.

“Sorry,” Aleks rolled onto his side and forced out a laugh but just wound up coughing, a misty cloud of blood puffing out of his mouth, rolled onto his back again when the pain on his arm grew too great. “Tends to happen when you’re a little bitch about it.”

“You’re an annoying little cunt. At least that part was true.”

“I try my best,” Aleks hugged his broken arm to his chest, trying to ease the burning ache of his ribs. He wondered if the bruises would still be forming after he was dead, if his casket would show boot marks on his collarbone or if they’d dress him in a nice suit instead of the favorite tank he wanted to be buried in.

He wondered if he’d have anyone to bury him at all, after the last couple months.

“Not even gonna ask who sent me?” The guy offered, like he wanted to hold a conversation even though Aleks could think of few things more painful than trying to breathe at the moment.

“I have a feeling,” he squeezed his eyes shut, tried to think of some way out of this, “I have a feeling you’re gonna monologue about it any second now.”

“No one sent me.” The man did, indeed, begin a monologue, which was both cliché to the max and also kind of helpful. It gave Aleks just that much longer to figure this out.

“No one sent me, because you killed my boss. My crew. My friends.” The guy took a few steps to the left to pick up the bat again, point it at Aleks like he was lining up the hit, “So I guess I’m freelance, now.”

“I don’t remember killin’ nobody,” Aleks said, and it was the honest truth. He didn’t usually get involved in that kind of business, it was Brett’s domain.

“No?” the man made his way to Aleks, looming over him like a reaper, the light of the nearby street lamps shadowing his face and giving him an eerie, ghostly sort of face.

“Let me see if I can jog your memory.”

Aleks was expecting the kick to the gut but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He barely managed a groan, what little air he’d brought back into his lungs leaving all at once.

“That was for Rian.” the man said, and Aleks didn’t bother reacting. Nova had been right, he guessed. There _were_ still a few cockroaches scurrying around.

“This one is for Jason,” the man continued and stomped on his broken arm. Aleks must have blacked out from the pain because he came back to the guy’s foot ramming into his side again with Julian’s name on his lips.

And so it went that the beating continued until the man had listed every name that had died in that warehouse and given Aleks a new wound for each.

Somehow, between the pain and the regret and the anger that _this_ was how he was going to go out, there was also relief. And sure, it was mixed into all of the complicated feelings he had surrounding Nova, but it was relief nonetheless. Relief that this, at least, hadn’t been how Nova planned to get rid of Aleks for good.

It was so impersonal, sending out a fucking hit while Aleks was walking his dog.

Mishka was still barking wildly, trying to squirm to Aleks with concern and trembling against the wall with loud howls when she was batted away. Aleks was sure the whole alley was covered in dog piss by now. It made him angry, the relief soon swallowed up in his rage.

His gun was...somewhere, but it was fucking pathetic that he hadn’t even got a good hit in. Or even a _bad_ hit. He hadn’t even swung. He tried to lift an arm and could only shout with pain. Oh, yeah. Broken.

“As fun as it’s been to beat your ass, cathartic an’ all,” the guy wiped his face with the back of his hand, like he’d worked up a sweat beating the fuck out of Aleks, “I think it’s time we proved the name wrong, Immortal.”

Aleks lamented all of the decisions that had got him to this point, one arm broken and the other mostly useless and his entire body in pain but also that he had to listen to a _villainous monologue_.

A just punishment, he supposed, for his distracted attitude. Just because it was his neighborhood didn’t make it safe. Nowhere was safe, and it had been a long time since he lived that way. He’d been sloppy and careless for months. Everything was fucked up. And now he was going to die in the goddamn street.

The guy popped the bat off his left palm again, doing his very best impression of a made-for-TV gangster, and when he got close enough, grinning and smug and about to bash _Immortal’s_ head in, Aleks raised both his legs and kicked as hard as he could into the dude’s knees.

Which, unfortunately, wasn’t very hard at all.

He only stumbled back a few feet before lunging forward and Mishka barked and growled, pouncing and standing up over Aleks’ chest, one paw on his thigh as she snarled and snapped.

He felt proud of her. It was a weird, maybe-last thought but she wasn’t the most courageous dog in the world. It was sort of a running joke within the crew that she’d never guard or protect shit.

“Hey!” a voice rang out from the windows above them, piercingly loud in the silence of Aleks’ last fucking thoughts, and a wave of premature relief washed over him so strongly he thought he might cry, “can you please, please, shut your dog - oh, holy shit!”

The woman disappeared back through the window. Gone as quickly as she’d arrived.

“No one gives a shit,” the guy laughed. “Fuck, I wanted a fight from you. I really did. What a bitch.” He raised the bat again, eyes zeroing in on where he’d already hit him, the wound on the side of his head, the blood oozing down from his fucking brain onto the sidewalk.

“Don’t you fucking move! Don’t!”

He would have still swung, probably, if not for the sound of a gun cocking.

“Thanks for coming back,” Aleks said, words all bubbly from the blood in his mouth. If it were possible for him to laugh, he would have.

“Had to get my gun!” the woman yelled, “I’m sorry! I’m not usually packing heat at three a.m. in my pajamas when I’m sleeping.”

“Go the fuck back inside, lady,” the guy said. “This isn’t your business.”

“Made it my business trying to beat someone to death outside my apartment. Get lost creep!” To Aleks’ surprise, she fired the gun once, at the tiny space of concrete between Aleks’ feet and the asshole trying to kill him. It echoed, loud and easily recognizable. “Go away or the next one goes in your ugly - oh God, man, just the ugliest face I’ve ever seen. Someone’s gonna report that and the police’ll be here!”

The guy took a step towards Aleks instead, staring up at the woman, and proved her a liar; she shot him in the shoulder. The guy stumbled forward with a scream of pain and Aleks kicked him again, jamming both his feet hard into his left knee. He went down, clutching at his shoulder with a few curses not even Aleks would repeat.

“What the -” Aleks managed to get to the wall, lean his back against it so he could get a better look at the woman, “Who - who the fuck are you, lady?”

“The name’s Brooke!” the woman said, and when Aleks made a pained, confused noise, she shouted, “Don’t let that guy kill you, I’m coming downstairs.”

“Okay, let me just hold him back,” Aleks mumbled to himself, one arm useless and the other nearly just as bad. Him, be useful? What a fuckin’ joke.

Mishka was still yapping away, though the man wasn’t really near them anymore. She didn’t leave Aleks’ side, standing over his outstretched legs.

The guy gave him one more dirty look, one hand clasped to his shoulder and the other hanging almost as uselessly as Aleks’ as he stumbled to his feet again.

“This isn’t over, Immortal. I won’t be the last one who comes for their piece.” He hissed, and then booked it.

Aleks watched him go, nothing he could do to stop him except maybe yell at him to stop and he kind of doubted the guy would listen with a chick packing heat possibly on her way to kill him now.

Speaking of - the woman burst from one of the doors close by just moments after his attacker had gone out of sight, the gun glinting in the street light that managed to find its way between all the buildings and into the alley.

“Where’s the son of a bitch!?” she demanded, looking ready to kill.

“Ran,” Aleks whispered, and then had to blink back the dark spots of pain because _ow ow fucking ow_.

“Pussy,” she slowly lowered her gun, and then pushed it into the waist of her flannel shorts and flip-flopped her way over to him, her sandals slapping the hard concrete of the alley with each step. “You okay?”

“No,” he admitted, looking first at her offered hand and then at his two fucked up arms. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“And you’re bleeding,” She pointed out helpfully and crouched. She pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder and he flinched so hard from the burst of pain that he startled her into falling back on her ass, too.

“Ow,” he said lamely, after the silence had consumed them both for too long.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No,” he shook his head, “Just. If you can get my phone and, uh, put it - ,” he wiggled the fingers of the hand attached to his broken arm, “I can… call a buddy.”

“How ‘bout I call ‘em for you, champ,” she carefully reached into the pocket of his sweats, fished out his phone, and then - after a brief stare-down where she waited for his lock code and he waited for her to just give him his phone and fuck off - she unlocked the shattered screen and opened his contacts.

“Uh...You’re looking for an, um. Like a flexing emoji?”

“That’s not very efficient,”

“Should be the last number to call me.”

Brooke raised an eyebrow at him but a few seconds later she had the phone to her ear while she looked him over critically.

“Yeah, hi,” Brooke said into the phone, “This dude said I should call you instead of an ambulance...Mhm. Got beat up real bad. Third and Winchester, you know it? Yeah, go there and then, like. Go to the right twice and it’s the alley between the apartment complex and the vacant office building. He’s kinda bleeding a lot and there’s….yeah, he said his arms are fucked...Brooke. I live upstairs...of course I’m gonna stay with him. Hurry.”

She hung up in less than a minute, looking uncertain.

“Muscle Emoji said he’d be here in fifteen minutes.”

Aleks nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the brick wall of what he assumed was the vacant office building she’d mentioned, for just a moment. Mishka finally quieted down and was laying on the ground against his side, head resting on his thigh and making soft, whining sounds. She was still shaking like a leaf, tail tucked under her butt. He tried to pat her comfortingly but gave up before he’d even really moved. The pain was too much.

“Thanks, uh. For the help. You can go back to bed, now.”

“Yeah right, kid,” she sniffed and stripped off the thin hoodie she had on, leaving her in her shorts and a loose tank top that Aleks immediately looked away from. She balled the hoodie up and pressed it to his head, where he thought he might have maybe been hit at some point. “I already sprinted down here with a gun, dude, I’m not just gonna leave my damsel in distress to bleed out.”

“Sums up…” He swallowed what tasted like a mouthful of blood, “our relationship so far.”

“Well,” Brooke smiled, wiping at the blood on his face with her hoodie. Aleks very firmly kept his eyes on her face because she’d just saved his life and he was a respectful fuck, if nothing else. “Glad to be of service, m’lady. You wanna tell me what just happened?”

“Better off not knowing,” Aleks admitted, “Watch your back for a few days.”

“You don’t need to worry about little ol’ me,” Brooke patted his knee, “I can take care of myself.”

Aleks twitched a smile, somehow believing that. He was too tired to keep talking, his head ached something fucking fierce and his arms hurt like a bitch and his dog was terrified. He just wanted to go home. He wanted his crew and to fix the sudden certainty that there was exactly zero places he was safe these days.

It wasn’t over, and this guy probably wouldn’t be the last one to come pick a fight with him. He’d never had a shortage of beef. Probably wouldn’t even be the toughest. Aleks was kind of fucked.

Brooke stayed with him until Brett showed up, casting a long shadow towards them from mouth of the alley.

“Jesus,” Brett breathed, and that was all he needed to finally relax. If Brett was there, he was safe, even if Brett was still pissed at him.

“Yeah,” Brooke agreed softly, “but you should see the other guy. Are you muscle emoji?” Just before Aleks closed his eyes he saw her reach towards Brett’s bicep with both hands and then expand them outward, “You must be.”

Brett hummed and Aleks could feel Mishka’s tail wagging against his hip. “Help me up,” he said, “just don’t -”

“One of his arms is probably broken,” Brooke said, “and the other one might as well be.”

Brett leaned down into Aleks’ space, wrapping an arm around him and hoisting him to his feet. Aleks kept his eyes closed tightly and his mouth shut, and barely managed not to let out a pain-filled sob. He felt steady on his feet, but Brett kept his hold on him and Aleks was grateful for it.

“The dog -”

“She’ll follow,” Brett said.

Aleks opened his eyes so he could look at Brooke to say, “Thanks. Seriously, he would’ve…”

“It’s no big deal. Take care, okay? And be careful. It’s dangerous out here.”

Brett laughed darkly and Aleks wished he had at least one working arm to elbow him with.

“Let’s go patch you up, buddy,” Brett said, and he was warm and incredibly solid against Aleks’ side, felt comforting. At the end of the alley Aleks could make out a familiar shape but it took him a minute before he recognized it as Lindsey.

“My head’s, it’s fucked up,” he mumbled but Brett only hummed again, held him a little tighter. Without thinking much, he turned his face into Brett’s shoulder and breathed and hoped he wasn’t coming off as too needy. But everything hurt, and he could admit now that he’d been real fucking scared there.

“You get a good look at the guy?” he asked Brooke and she nodded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. We can talk.”

“Sure thing.”

Aleks’ eyes were slipping closed again but he felt Mishka nosing against the back of his calves as Brett brought him to the van. He wasn’t dead, so things weren’t so bad. They could have definitely gone worse. Brett took Mishka in the front and Aleks laid across the backmost seat, Lindsey sitting on the floor in the empty space in the middle, already working on assessing the damage. The very, very fucking severe damage. Her hands were soft and gentle but they still fucking hurt, and it was all he could do to blink back the pained tears at her press to his screaming shoulder.

“‘M sorry,” he found himself saying, somehow feeling like he needed to apologize, like this was all his fault, “I’m -”

“No, shut up. _I’m_ sorry, sweetie,” Lindsey whispered, her voice soft and a little wet, and that was the last thing Aleks remembered before he lost consciousness.

-

The first thing Aleks felt was his heartbeat, which was reassuring. It meant he was alive and that was as good a start as any.

The second thing was that it was a hospital bed he was lying in. He could hear the beeping of the monitor behind him, matching the thumping in his chest and throat, and the smell was unmistakable. Which meant that he was alive, but at some point, was _just barely_. The only reason the crew would take him there was if they’d been sure he might die.

His body was numb and his brain felt fuzzy, but he remembered Mishka huddled against him and covered in blood. The thought was pushed away as soon as it surfaced. He couldn’t think of that yet. Instead he focused on the warmth wrapped around his hand and forced his eyes to open.

The room was dark, but there was a light coming in from the hall through the cracked open door, and he could make out the shape of Brett sitting beside the bed. He was hunched over, holding Aleks’ left hand in both of his and resting his forehead against their tangled fingers.

None of his injuries hurt - the morphine was taking care of that - but _this_ hurt. Seeing Brett hurt.

“Brett,” he tried to say, but it came out as a hoarse rasp. So he tried again.

Brett didn’t look up or drop his hand. If he was surprised to find Aleks awake, it didn’t show. He just whispered, “Don’t.”

He hadn’t spoken loud enough for the words to crack, but Aleks could make out the rough edges anyway. He flexed his fingers, gripped Brett’s hand back and could hear through the heart monitor the way his chest ached when Brett let out a quiet, wretched sob. It moved his shoulders in a wave, rough fingers holding Aleks’ so tight it might have hurt if not for the painkillers being steadily leaked into his blood.

The movies always made moments like this out to be scary. The main character was supposed to flip his shit, sit up and rip his IV out, demand to get revenge.

Aleks didn’t want to do any of that. Honestly, Aleks just wanted to lay there and be numbed against what he knew was going to be fucking agony when he was taken off the trip, and just...be with Brett, because Brett might have been angry at him but Brett had always looked out for him even at his lowest point.

He stared up at the ceiling, blinked back the burning in his eyes. He’d done it again - he’d fucked up. This time, he’d landed himself in the hospital. Honestly, how he’d survived this long was a miracle.

No, not a miracle. He’d survived this long because of his friends, his crew. And he’d ruined that, or at least damaged those bonds because he’d been selfish and stupid and -

And so many things. Did _in love_ cover all of them?

“You stayin’ awake this time, bud?” Brett cleared his throat, but didn’t raise his voice very much.

Aleks nodded, throat still too dry to talk, and then winced. Even the morphine couldn’t hold back the ache of his head.

“Don’t move too much,” Brett unwrapped one hand from Aleks’ and reached out of his line of sight, coming back with a little cup and a straw. “Here, drink.”

He brought the straw to Aleks’ lips and Aleks drank. It was the sweetest thing he could ever remember having and it almost brought him to tears all over again when it was gone.

“Jesus,” he swallowed a few times, cleared his throat, shifted a little and then remembered that that was a terrible idea and he should never do it again. “Christ. What...what happened?”

“You,” Brett set the cup aside, “You took Mishka out for a walk. Someone got you from behind. Must’a thought you were a piñata or somethin’ ‘cause he beat you ragged with a bat. A nice lady saved your sorry ass and called me.”

“Ah,” Aleks blinked, “I...maybe remember…”

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Brett pat his hand, which he was only now realizing was connected to a bright pink cast instead of his arm. “He got you pretty good along the hairline. Split you open a new scar, that’s for damn sure. The doctor said you’d probably be missing some time. Maybe you’ll get it back, but maybe not. Don’t try to force it.”

There was a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he didn’t deserve this, but he pushed that away. Brett was there - Lindsey and Trevor probably around too - just like Aleks would’ve been for them. Because it was only them. They were all they had.

It was mortifying he’d forgotten that. That he’d allowed anyone to get in the way of it, even Nova.

And like hell he would be forcing any memory of what had happened to come back. In fact, he wished the blow to his stupid fucking head would’ve taken more. Erased the last few months with one crack. A hit so hard it could send him back in time to prevent this mess.

There was something though. Something important on the tip of his tongue. Aleks watched as Brett poured more water and chased it, even though he didn’t want to. Names. He remembered _names_.

Brett had let go of his hand and Aleks curled those same fingers against the shitty mattress.

“Wasn’t James,” he whispered.

Brett looked up at him slowly and didn’t ask, but the question was written all over his face.

“Christ Punchers,” Aleks said weakly. “For the warehouse.”

Brett didn’t seem surprised by that either. In the dim light Aleks could see the wheels in his head turning and, even though they disagreed about shit all the time, they usually wound up at the same conclusions. Whoever had gone after Lindsey, that wasn’t _Nova_ style but did have _Christ Punchers_ written all over it. Flashy and dumb and not even a little subtle.

Aleks was expecting an argument anyway. That even though James hadn’t done this to him, that didn’t make him a good guy. He was still out there and still wanted their blood and there was no getting around it.

Instead, Brett sighed and scooted his chair closer.

“ _James_ ,” Brett repeated, turning the name over between his lips. A long moment passed where he did nothing but look at him and Aleks didn’t try to turn away. He was done hiding.

“I’m sorry,” Brett said, and the only reason Aleks didn’t startle was all the drugs pumping through him, “I should have known you couldn’t - I should have kept you away from him.”

“Brett -”

“No, I don’t mean,” he took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. “Not that you can’t take care of yourself. I knew what Nova meant to you. Maybe not him, but the _idea_ of who you thought he was.”

Aleks tried to swallow and found that the lump in his throat was back. He couldn’t speak around it, even if he tried.

“I should have…” Brett put his face in his hands, leaned his elbows on the bed next to Aleks, “Fuck, I should have done a lot of things. He had you primed from the start and I _suspected_ but I -” he took a shuddering breath, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from him, Aleks. His fucking mind games. And then -”

He sat back sharply, eyes red-rimmed, voice rough, “Shit, I should have had Trevor or Lindsey at the house with you. Of course you’d get restless, I’m such a fucking -”

“Not,” Aleks finally managed to break in, clearing his throat, “Not your fault, man.”

“Yes, it is,” Brett said fiercely, “I’m supposed to _protect_ you guys. I couldn’t even keep Lindsey safe and I _live_ with her. But you,” he shook his head, “I was so worried about...expanding and convincing you that we needed to grow that I ignored what I thought was going on. I should have said something.”

“I’m sorry,” Aleks looked away from Brett, up at the ceiling again, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Brett. For...For James and for lying and for leaving and _this_ ,”

He couldn’t move his other arm, but he was able to carefully lift the casted one to his face, use his fingers to press against his eyes, wipe at them - and God, was he sick of having to do that.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, because that’s all he _could_ say. He was so sorry for so much he couldn’t even list it all.

“I know,” Brett laid his hands on the bed next to Aleks, a comforting weight on the mattress and heat against his chilled skin. “I know. It’s okay.”

“I still,” Aleks had to take a deep breath, his voice shaking and pained, “I love him, Brett. I still love him, what’s _wrong_ with me -”

“Nothing,” Brett promised, comforting in a way he hadn’t had to be since Aleks had heard Nova had died. “Nothing is wrong with you, you’re just. You fell for a bad guy, Aleks. That’s not your fault.”

“It hurts,” Aleks said and wasn’t talking about the ache that was slowly making itself known throughout his body.

“It’ll be okay.” Brett took a breath, “We’ll get through this, man. Together, right?”

Unable to talk anymore for fear of embarrassing himself even further, Aleks just nodded slightly, fingers still pressed hard to his eyes.

The room fell quiet except for the soft sounds Aleks couldn’t muffle, but Brett stayed at his side, a strong presence that, somehow, made everything seem not quite as terrible.

-

Being stuck in his apartment for the second time was no easier than the first. In fact, it was even _less_ enjoyable because he could barely leave his bed for the first couple days, and then couldn’t leave the second floor for days after that. Just another downside to being beaten half to death.

It was all downsides, really.

A week in the hospital left him healed enough to be mostly functional even when he wasn’t being pumped full of drugs, but nearly an entire additional week of being totally reliant on his crew to bring him food and walk his dog and help him put on his fucking clothes was grinding on his nerves and pride.

The doc had given him permission to lose the sling as long as he was careful. The bat hit his shoulder enough that the dislocation hadn’t been a simple pop and go to fix, but he’d been assured a full recovery was possible if he didn’t do anything strenuous for at least a month. His left arm, though, that bitch had been broken in two places - a thin crack right in the middle of his forearm and another break just above the wrist. His arm was casted, but they weren’t fully sure how his wrist was going to fare until it healed up a little more.

He also, much to his chagrin, had a minor concussion. After two weeks that, at least, was mostly back to normal, but he’d had the distinct pleasure of being told exactly how many times he’d puked on both Brett and Lindsey’s shoes before he finally passed out for good. No brain damage, though, and that was something to be grateful for.

And then there were the bruises.

So dark and painful-looking that whenever Lindsey helped him in and out of his tank tops she couldn’t help but make tiny, sympathetic noises. Aleks would never admit it, but her making those little sounds felt good. Felt like she still loved him - or at the very least _liked_ him - or at the very, very least forgave him.

He’d learned a fuck-ton of lessons over the last few months but he was still a selfish prick.

A selfish prick who, after two goddamn weeks, was finally able to shower. No awkward encounters with hospital staff or the nurses they’d sent to check up on him. He had to take it slow, terrified of setting back his progress with the dislocated arm, but it was so fucking worth it. Finally feeling _clean_ for the first time in weeks, Aleks stepped gingerly out of the shower and padded with wet, bare feet to his bedroom.

He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was the first time he’d had the chance to get a good look.

Most of the bruises must have come from those scant minutes he couldn’t remember, when the guy had him on the ground and before his white knight popped up. The worst were on his sides and thighs, thick and long and distinctly fucking bat-shaped, and so dark in some places they looked more black than blue.

Aleks stared at his reflection, his heart speeding up, beating so fast he could feel in at the back of his throat.

At least his face sort of looked okay now. Both eyes had blackened from the head trauma and he has split both lips but, where all the other bruises were still dark, his eyes were now a nasty yellow as they healed. His lips were scabbing still because he kept tearing them open.

The front door opened and Aleks kicked his bedroom door shut - the very last thing he needed, after all of this, was Trevor or Lindsey seeing him _naked_ \- and then stumbled back, his chest tightening and lungs seizing. The two sounds - both doors slamming - shot through him, and he leaned his ass on the dresser and took a few deep breaths.

Over the last weeks it was just something that happened. A noise or quick movement would hit him, and he’d remember something new. Some new shitty little detail to file away.

“You okay?” Trevor asked, face close to the bedroom door. “We’re a little early. Sorry, dude.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Aleks said, and his voice was stronger than he was expecting. “Just give me, oh, thirty fucking minutes to throw on some sweats.”

“You want help?”

“You wanna see my dick again?”

“Not really,” Trevor admitted, and Aleks could picture his annoyed yet sheepish face. “I think one of us having PTSD is enough, right?”

“Ha ha,” Aleks said slowly, but he wasn’t sure how much of a joke it was. He’d been having trouble sleeping.

Although it wasn’t the beating that usually kept him awake. His body was going to fucking heal, he’d be fine eventually, but Aleks had no idea how to fix his head or heart. How he was always wanting things he couldn’t have, people who wouldn’t have him, impossible, stupid, storybook things.

The crew was trying to keep him out the loop but they weren’t the only people in the world Aleks knew, and word was getting around. Nova was unleashed, angry and dangerous and unpredictable. But according to Khail, his eyes weren’t on Aleks’ neighborhood - Nova’s own neighborhood - he was pushing against old boundaries, old Hub spaces. Not taking anything. Just tearing it apart.

And no one was touching him. According to Khail, even crews like Fakehaus were just moving out of his way. Clearing a little path.

And then, a few days ago, he’d gone quiet again.

Aleks tried not to think about it. Tried not to wonder when all that shit would be directed at him, at his crew, although he knew it was coming. Nova wasn’t just done with him yet.

And that should have been reason enough to not miss James. But he did.

All the time.

It only took him five minutes to get his sweatpants on. Lindsey was standing at the kitchen counter, making lunch, and since Mishka wasn’t trying to jump all over him or bug her for scraps, he assumed Trevor had taken her for a walk. She cat-called and whistled when she saw him, but Aleks could see how upset she still was. Lindsey’s eyes were too big, too expressive, and people like that could never hide _everything_. The truth was always there.

“Stop looking so down,” he crossed his arms, collapsing into the couch - and by ‘collapsing,’ he meant ‘gingerly sitting’ - while she watched him closely.

“I’m not down,” she said instantly and turned back to the fuckin’ mountain of sandwiches she was making, like she was about to feed an army.

He hadn’t had ham in his fridge, or that kind of bread, so she must have gone shopping before coming over. He watched her, not quite sure how he was feeling about...anything. He and Brett were - cool, kind of. He didn’t seem _angry_ , at least, just worried. And Trevor was his usual self, quiet and blandly obvious about what he was thinking.

Lindsey hadn’t really looked him in the eye for longer than a second or two since that fight three weeks ago. He’s not sure...where he stands with her. Knows she came, too, when Brett picked him up, even if he can’t remember it, and knows that she was around the hospital, that she visited every day and made sure he was being taken care of, and she came every day now, too. Brought food and had helped him get dressed and, Jesus, had fed him during those early days when he couldn’t move either arm.

She just...she wouldn’t look at him, and it hurt. He _deserved it_ , but it still hurt.

He turned the TV on to fill the awkward silence, the dulcet tones of South Park making up for their lack of conversation. He was barely paying attention, more focused on looking around the familiar setting of his living room-kitchen, leg bouncing and fingers tapping to the rhythm of a song he hadn’t listened to in a decade.

She brought the sandwiches over sometime around when Cartman was confessing his love to Kyle during a basketball game and she turned the cartoon off with a roll of her eyes. She deposited the platter of sandwiches on the coffee table, looking unamused.

“What a dumb show,” she said, collapsing - properly, with an _oomph_ \- on the other side of the couch. She selected one of the sandwiches delicately and picked it from the pile.

“I think that’s the point,” he shrugged, winced, and reached out with his sore arm because at least that hand was fully functioning. The relief he felt just being able to feed himself again was off the charts.

Along with her sandwich Lindsey had leaned over to grab the remote, and Aleks watched her as he ate and she flipped through the channels. As terrible as having this conversation with Brett had been, it hadn’t been awkward. It’d had that going for it. Lindsey and Trevor would be difficult in a different way. But it wasn’t only that Aleks had to do this, he wanted to.

So he took a deep breath, put down the rest of his sandwich, and said, “I know we don’t always like each other -”

It wasn’t a speech he’d practiced but Aleks had put a hell of a lot of thought into it. Lindsey didn’t bother letting him finish.

“Did you ever have any foster siblings?”

Aleks faltered and didn’t answer.

“I have siblings,” she said, tossing the remote onto the coffee table and turning on the couch toward him, legs tucked up on the cushions. “You’re a pain in my ass, Aleks. You say stupid shit and annoy me. I don’t understand you most of the time.”

Her eyes were on him and Aleks wanted to look away but couldn’t.

“I _don’t_ like you sometimes.” Lindsey scooted closer, but kept a good amount of space between them. “You’re not gonna always like your family. But I love you, you know?”

Aleks wished his eyes weren’t burning but at least he wasn’t fucking crying again. Lindsey would never let him live it down.

“You know how dumb love makes people?” she said, her voice soft and quiet. “Makes you get a wolf tattoo or overdo it with the sandwiches or,” she paused, then sighed, “blinds you.”

 _Blinds you_ was putting it lightly and Aleks couldn’t help but be thankful she had. Still, he found himself _wanting_ to get into it. This wasn’t something he could discuss with Brett and Trevor wouldn’t want to hear about the details.

Shifting carefully, Aleks closed the distance between them and Lindsey smiled, making room for him and dropping her arm lightly over his shoulders. Their feet rested together, side by side, on the coffee table. Despite the fact they were both pretty touchy people, they weren’t like this together, didn’t _cuddle,_ but Aleks kind of liked it. Lindsey was calming, even when she was doing crazy shit or saying something weird.

“Now, tell me all about it.”

“...didn’t I already do that?” he hesitated, picking at the crust of his sandwich.

“Nope,” she said patiently, “you really didn’t.”

Aleks took another bite of his sandwich, sunk deeper into the couch and rested his head against her arm, eyes glued to the TV screen. He chewed for a lot longer than necessary, and when he couldn’t stall anymore swallowed thickly. “It started before the warehouse. Maybe at The Brew? I dunno. It just. It just kind of, I think, _was_.”

Lindsey nodded, long hair tickling his face as he spoke, keeping his voice only just above a whisper. He told her how everything had _felt_. Not just a timeline of events but what it had done to him.

How he still couldn’t quite get his brain around all of it being bullshit. Told her how James had...had held his hand, and talked to his dog, and told him tiny little things about himself that it made no _sense_ to tell someone you were just playing around with.

He ate his sandwich between words, and then another when she gave it to him, and only stopped when he got to the night of the fight, when he’d gone to Khail’s.

“There’s a girl.” he finally said, and it felt as if it cut his throw to get it out. “He’s got a girlfriend. He introduced her to Geoff and everything. Right in front of me.”

“Oh, Aleks,” she sighed, drawing him into a sideways hug and he wanted to push away, preserve what little dignity he had left, but...really, who was he kidding. None of that shit was left. Zero amount of rep or cred with any of his crew. They’d had to help him piss for the last two weeks.

“Yeah.” he shrugged, swallowed. The sandwiches sat heavy in his stomach. “I miss him, though. You know.” he pressed his hand over his chest, “I wish I didn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I do.”

“It’s okay,” Lindsey said with feeling, and he understood exactly how she and Brett fit together, exactly how they were kind of like two interlocking puzzle pieces.

“Yeah?” he said again, a question this time.

“Don’t be stupid.” Lindsey rolled her eyes, “Of course it is. We can’t help who we love, Aleks. And he...well. He was a good actor, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

Aleks nodded, not wanting to say any more about it. At least he hadn’t cried this time. It had...it felt good, actually, to talk about it. To remember how nice it felt, even if it had been fake, that what they had was a lie. He’d known it wouldn’t last, anyway. Known it was borrowed time. And, hell, it fucking sucked that he’d been the other woman but that was on _James_ being a sleaze, not Aleks.

Aleks laughed abruptly, startling Lindsey. What did feel good, and definitely like fucking winning, was lying or not, playing him or not, James had _wanted it._ In the bar and the front seat of his car. It wasn’t much but Aleks would take whatever he could get.

Lindsey was still side eying him with a smile on her face when Trevor came back. He unhooked Mishka’s leash and she ran to her water bowl to cool down. Trevor sat down in the space Aleks had previously been occupying, double fisting two sandwiches and putting his feet up too.

Without saying anything, Aleks tilted away from Lindsey to lean against Trevor - much more familiar territory - and settled in.

“We cool, dude?” Aleks asked, stealing a bite of one of Trevor’s sandwiches.

“We’re always cool.” Trevor said without looking at him and that was that.

Mishka came to join them when the sound of frantic water-lapping was finished. They’d taken her to be shaved while Aleks was in the hospital, her hair too matted from blood and alley scum to even attempt to save, and she looked so tiny without all of the volume her hair gave her. She was _gray_ all over her body now, except for the floof of her head and paws and tail. Her chin still dripped with water when she jumped up onto the couch and laid on Aleks’ lap, squirming between he and Trevor to fit, and he felt it seep through his sweats but didn’t mind too much.

He scratched her behind the ears and she looked up at him without moving her head, big eyes dark and soulful and loving, and Aleks took a short second to just - appreciate.

He’d lost James - had never had him, not really - but he had Brett and Lindsey and Trevor. He had Mishka and, somewhere around this fuckin’ apartment, he had Celia. He had Michael and the Fakes, who were good friends, and Khail. He had a good life, a lot going for him, a future - if one blighted by the knowledge that he would soon have to pit all of his crew against _Nova_.

He was lucky.

It would have been too much to say that he loved them out loud. None of them were that kind of person except Lindsey and she’d already done it. But he felt it, and he knew Brett would be over soon to join them and they’d probably watch some stupid movie and order take out. They wouldn’t talk business because the embargo on information to Aleks’ ears was still in place despite everything, but that would be fine. Aleks kind of just wanted to have the night with them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH LOOK yes we decided to post the chapter early! happy extra life!! thank you to everyone who has read this and stuck with us, we were both a little nervous to post this and its been received so kindly by all of you <3 thank you for the support!!!! i hope you enjoy the ending <3

It was pushing two and a half weeks since he’d got his ass beat, _three_ and a half since Brett confined him to his apartment, and to say Aleks was getting tired of staring at the fucking walls was an understatement.

“We could go on a walk?” Brett offered, and Aleks knew that he actually meant a quick speed-walk around the building with Aleks surrounded by all three of them before he was whisked back inside. He’d pulled his arm weird yesterday and was back in the sling as a safety precaution and Brett was on even higher alert than usual with both of Aleks’ arms kind of useless again.

“No,” Aleks continued his pacing, from the living room to the kitchen counter and back while Brett and Lindsey say together on the couch and Trevor lied on the floor out of his way, playing a game on his phone. “No, no more walks. I need to get _away_ from this building, Brett, I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

“Nowhere’s safe for any of us right now,” Brett said with forced patience. Aleks could understand his frustration, knew he was being an annoying cunt, but he couldn’t _help_ it. Brett, at least, had crew business to distract him with. Aleks had TV and little else with his hands so useless.

“Well,” Lindsey chimed, “ _One_ place is always safe for us, if you need to get away for a couple hours. Maybe drink some coffee.”

“No,” Brett said at the same time that Aleks whirled around to give her a nervous stare.

“The Brew?” He shifted, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He’d got used to the cast by now, liked to tap it against his leg lightly in one particular spot where the bruise was more tingly than painful to the touch and that’s what he did now.

“The Brew,” Lindsey nodded, like Brett wasn’t glaring at her and as if the last time Aleks went there hadn’t been when he’d found out that the guy he was in love with was humiliating and manipulating him to fracture his crew apart and steal their assets.

As if it was a totally normal thing to suggest.

_Coffee._

Aleks stared at Lindsey just to keep himself from looking at whatever was definitely happening on Brett’s face. Her eyes were big and bright and there was a little smile on her face she was obviously trying to beat back. Brett made another noise, not quite a ‘no’ but close and to everyone’s surprise it was Trevor who pointedly ignored him this time.

“That’s a good idea,” he said, pausing his game and dropping the phone on his chest. “He’ll be fine there, right? Nothing violent is gonna happen at The Brew.”

Picking up his phone and getting back to the game, Trevor gave a big, exaggerated shrug and Mishka, lying next to him, rolled over to lick his face.

“Anyway, it’s not like anyone has tried anything. It’s almost as if Nova isn’t interested in murdering us at all. Weird.”

Brett didn’t say anything but he threw an unopened bag of Doritos from the table at Trevor’s face.

“Oh, sweet. Thanks, dude.”

“It’ll be fine, B,” Lindsey assured, squeezing Brett’s knee. “I’ll drive him there and pick him up. And Trev’s right. Nobody’s going to try anything there. Safe as houses.”

“Is anyone gonna ask me if _I_ wanna go?” Aleks frowned, put off, and all three of them turned to look at him.

“ _Do_ you wanna go?” Lindsey asked, more of an offer than a question, and Aleks took a second to think about it.

All he had while he was a giant fucking wound on legs was his apartment or _The AH Brew_. And it _was_ neutral, safe territory. If he went at a different time - late evening instead of early to mid-morning, his chances of running into Nova were slim to none. Nova probably had his work cut out for him hustling in all over Aleks’ turf and wouldn’t be stopping in for a coffee and a chat these days, anyway.

“...tonight.” He decided, “Later, you know. Mix up my routine. That work?”

“Of course, babe,” Lindsey grinned and they all ignored the sour expression on Brett’s face.

And that was how, a few hours later, Aleks had dressed himself carefully around the sling and cast and been driven by Lindsey to the familiar little shopping district that The Brew called home.

She dropped him off around the corner, just to keep out of sight, and he made his way towards the shop. It felt different to be there at night; even the street looked different, colorful lights he’d never noticed before strung between the streetlamps and store awnings, the sounds of music playing, the commuters swapped for a more colorful and lively crowd. Careful not to bump into anyone, he weaved his way down the street and used his foot to push open the shop’s door, the little bell above his head ringing cheerfully.

It felt good to be back. Safe.

There was a good amount of people there, most tucked into corners or milling about leafing through the books and magazines laying around. Aleks faltered for a moment, a confusing jolt of anxiety building in his gut, but it eased immediately at the sound of Geoff’s voice.

He was sitting behind the counter on the stool, elbows resting on his knees and holding his phone in both hands with Gavin in a mirrored position right next to him and doing the exact same thing, but Geoff hopped down when he saw Aleks and made his way over.

Between his sunglasses and the dim lighting Aleks’ fucked up face was mostly hidden, but he couldn’t hide the cast or the sling or the awkward way he was moving. Geoff wasn’t surprised, and Aleks hadn’t expected him to be - word had already gotten around, as much as they tried to stifle it. Geoff guided Aleks towards the back before he even said hello.

It was the same table he’d brought James and his girlfriend to, tucked out of the way and out of sight. But Aleks could see the door, had his back to the wall, and he was able to relax into the booth.

“I’ll be back,” Geoff aid, rapping his knuckles lightly on the table. “Sit tight, dude.”

His body ached as Aleks tried to convince some of the tension to leave his shoulders and neck. Although he was thrilled to be out of his apartment, being back in the shop was weird. It was _his_ place first, but now all it did was remind him of James.

Geoff brought his coffee and sat down for a bit, talking about the café and their shitty headshop neighbors, the unreasonable cost of rent and his own confusion about why he hadn’t just bought the building, and it was nice to listen to him talk. He was so good at talking that Aleks barely noticed when the conversation steered to himself.

In the drawn lines of Geoff’s face was the ghost of who he used to be - who he still ultimately was - and Aleks felt unnerved for the first time since getting to know him.

“I don’t know,” Aleks answered. “I can barely remember his face and the girl - this girl helped, she saw him but it hasn’t led to anything. It’s only been a few weeks.”

“A few weeks is a long time not to do anything,” Geoff said, tugging thoughtfully on his beard.

“I _know_ ,” Aleks said, because he did fucking know. Every minute that guy walked around, every minute he wasn’t dead for what he’d done to Aleks, he was talking. Telling people what he’d done and to whom. Every minute that passed was making the crew weaker. They were already weak enough. “And it’s just going to happen a-fucking-gain, like, as long as Nova -”

Geoff shot him a look and Aleks fell silent, although it didn’t seem fucking fair that Geoff could ask whatever the hell he wanted but Aleks couldn’t talk about _why_ it was all happening.

A few minutes passed before Geoff stood, taking Aleks’ empty mug, and said, almost as though he felt guilty, “I really am sorry, Aleks. If you wanna sit here all fucking night, we’ll stay open, man.”

Aleks nodded, affection and anger towards Geoff bubbling up inside him in equal measure.

He wasn’t alone for long.

“Hey, you’ve got somethin’ on your face,” Michael said, slipping into Geoff’s empty seat with two steaming mugs. Aleks’ lips twitched up in response and he accepted the coffee, the heat of the ceramic warming his aching fingers.

“They’re called sunglasses.”

“I was talking about all the bruises.” Michael seemed like he was going to nudge him but stopped like he suddenly remembered that touching Aleks would probably hurt him a lot more than either of them wanted.

“Most people have enough tact not to point those out.”

“Most people don’t wear sunglasses inside like a douche.”

“I’d get a lot more stares without ‘em,” Aleks warned but, when Michael didn’t look impressed, reluctantly pulled the sunglasses off his face and folded them into his fist.

He saw the shock, the anger, and the sympathy all flash through Michael’s face in quick succession, before settling back into his usual half-grin.

“See? Much less douchey.”

“I look like I ran face first into a Sephora.”

“Yeah, but you smell great.”

Aleks faked a laugh, but he gave up trying to hide his face behind the oversized mug. It was pointless. Everyone already knew what happened. Anyone who would laugh was already doing it.

They didn’t talk for a while after that, just sat together and sipped their coffees quietly. It was nice to not have to stare at his bare walls. No crew to suffocate him with worried glances. No Nova. Just coffee, and Michael, and the other Fakes either in the back or at the counter.

“It’ll be okay,” Michael said, eventually breaking the silence a lot more softly than Aleks could handle.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. His shoulder ached.

“I mean it.” he insisted. “Shit always gets worse before it gets better.”

“Don’t jinx me,” Aleks took a long drag of his coffee to avoid having to talk anymore.

“I’m just sayin’,” Michael touched him lightly, laying his warm palm on the back of Aleks’ exposed fingers on the table, the cast keeping his touch from the rest of his hand. He didn’t squeeze or anything, it was just a quick press, but it meant just about as much as Geoff putting him at this table did.

“I hear you,” he promised, because he did. He didn’t _believe_ him, but...well. That wasn’t Michael’s fault. He was part of the luckiest crew in the world.

“I’m gonna go get you one of those fuckin’ cakes you like,” Michael decided. “Actually, no. I’m going to get you some real goddamn food.”

“I dunno, dude,” Aleks started to decline, but Michael was having none of it. He stood up, pressed down on his hand again.

“Shut up. This is how we show affection here.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the back like Aleks hadn’t said a word. He watched Michael go until the bell above the door jingled and drew his attention.

All of the tension that had dissipated between Geoff and Michael’s visits returned with a vengeance.

“For fuck’s sake,” he heard himself say aloud, voice incredulous at his own bad luck, “Can I just get a fuckin’ break for _one_ goddamn day?”

James was staring at him with big, comically round eyes but he didn’t looked especially surprised or angry to see him.

Of course this was happening. Even though Aleks had gone out of his way to come at a time not typical for James, _of course_ he’d run into him. Because if there was one constant he’d learned in the last few months, it was that the universe fucking hated him and was looking to screw him and every available opportunity. Which, today, took the form of Nova heading toward him with the face of someone about to go the fuck off.

Aleks stood, coffee forgotten, ready to bolt like the bitch he was, but lost the chance almost before he’d even risen.

“We need to talk,” Nova snapped, sounding angrier than the first time they’d met at the café.

“No.” Aleks decided, “No, we fucking don’t. I was just leaving, actually -” he tried to step around him, but the placement of the table was no longer an advantage. It trapped him between two walls and made it impossible to get around Nova without touching him. And Nova lifted an arm to block Aleks’ exit, making it that much more difficult, hand flat to the wall and boxing him in.

“Leave me alone.” Aleks tried again, angrier.

“We need,” Nova repeated, matching his tone, “to fucking talk, Aleksandr.”

“Don’t call me that,” Aleks snapped, clenching the fist resting in his sling. “Fuck off, Nova.”

“First,” he said, hiking up a finger, “You go hot to cold in literally the span of eight hours. I get one night stand regrets, dude, but seriously? _Blocking my number_? Then your half-bear guard dog starts _menacing my crew_ in turf that I’m pretty sure we had a nice unspoken pact about leaving the fuck alone.”

Aleks didn’t know anything about that, but he couldn’t say he cared.

“Why the fuck are you still talking to me?”

Aleks tried to shoulder past Nova’s arm, but he wouldn’t budge and it hurt too much to try harder. Over his shoulder, Aleks spotted Jeremy watching with a raised brow. They hadn’t started yelling yet, and no one had thrown any punches, so he hadn’t stepped in, but Aleks was pretty close to just calling his name.

“Here’s the best fucking part,” Nova continued, like Aleks hadn’t said anything at all - these fuckin’ East Coasters, _ignoring_ him, “The best fuckin’ part is that _your_ crew, with you _nowhere_ to be _fuckin_ ’ seen, has time for that shit but can’t take care of their own on their home field!”

“Shut up,” Aleks snapped his eyes to Nova’s, suddenly furious, “Shut the fuck up, what do - you don’t know - shut _up_ , you don’t know shit about what -”

“I know that you got beaten within an inch of your goddamn life four fucking blocks from your own damn apartment -”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Aleks finally lost his hold on his voice, shouting loud enough to drown out Nova. He’d never been good at yelling and his voice cracked at the sudden shift in volume. “Shut _up_ , this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you!”

“ _Me!?_ ” he slammed his hand against the wall, palm still flat, announcing that Nova and Immortal were having yet another blow out in the café. “Are you blaming me for your crew not being able to watch their own damn back!?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Aleks shouted back, “Yes, _you!_ We were fuckin’ - we were so fuckin’ good before _you_ \- you just had to fuckin’ ruin everything, again, you just had to swoop in after we were finally in a good place after what you _assholes_ did and tear it all the fuck up!”

“You’re fuckin unbelievable,” James said, raising his voice to match Aleks’. “Can’t even - you could have _died_ , are you a fucking _idiot_ , going out at night, alone, like that knock off poodle of yours is gonna be some sort of protection, what the _fuck_ -”

“If you had just -” Aleks inhaled, sharp, his heart and his chest and his throat and his entire body _aching_ with anger and some sort of grief, “If you had just stayed dead, none of this would have happened!”

“If all it took to topple your fuck up of a crew was me showing up, then you obviously weren’t stable in the goddamn first place, Aleksandr!”

“I told you -” Aleks just - he just wanted to leave. It was a mistake. He just wanted to go home. “I told you not to fucking call me that!”

It happened before he could think about what he was doing. The only thing in his head was that he wanted to go and James wouldn’t let him. So he just - used all of his strength to shove James back with both hands.

The pain was...immediate. Explosive, like he’d been hit with the bat all over again. It lanced up both arms, deep into the muscles around his newly-relocated shoulder blade and the breaks in his bones and the aches and bruises of his upper body. Damn, it even hurt his head, made his eyes and nose and temples all pulse with pain. He curled in on himself before he could stop the reaction, crying out so loudly he heard something break in the kitchen.

“Oh, fuck,” James said, “Aleks - Jesus, dude, your arms, what the fuck -”

“You -” he gritted out, at the end of his rope, “You fucking left. You left us.”

James’ hands, which were hovering around Aleks’ shoulders, unsure of where to touch or debating on if he even wanted to help, stilled. “What?”

“You _left us_ , and I stood the fuck up when no one else would,” he said, his voice strained as he moved carefully away from that hovering touch. “Got a good crew together. _I_ went out and fucking did it all. I took care of your people, I took care of your turf, I took care of your businesses and your fucking reputation, and _no one_ got away with talking shit about you or the Hub.”

The step back that James took opened up a space between them for Aleks to get his shit together. The hurt was overwhelming - no amount of painkillers could fight what he’d just done to himself - but he fought it the best he could, standing straighter, breathing against his racing heart and the blood pounding in his ears. The way James was staring at him felt like it could set the room on fire - anger and confusion and something else, something burning, right underneath. He opened his mouth but Aleks couldn’t let him say anything, couldn’t give him the chance.

“You got shit to say about me, about my crew, about how _I’m_ fucking hot and cold?” Aleks laughed, but even to his own ears he could hear how hollow it sounded. “ _Me?_ I held this shit together when you ran the fuck away with your tail between your legs. Let the world think you were dead because you were too much of a bitch to admit you failed.”

Anger flashed across Nova’s face and settled there, driving away whatever else there’d been, and he moved forward like he planned on doing something. Aleks didn’t budge, didn’t step back or cower. If Nova hit him he’d probably _kill_ him, he’d have a heart attack just from the sheer pain of it, but Aleks would take it. The way he took everything fucking else.

But Nova didn’t punch him. He crowded close, red-faced and nose flaring as he took deep, noisy breaths, and Aleks _hated_ him.

“You don’t know that the hell you’re talking about,” Nova said, voice strained and low and meant only for Aleks. “Just stop. Sit down, you idiot, and -”

“This I know about, this I fucking know about, “ Aleks yelled, pushing back against Nova even though it was agonizing for multiple reasons. His ribs were burning, his arms and shoulders and back felt like they shattered, but he couldn’t let Nova win this. Not anymore. “You’re exactly what everyone used to say about you. I thought - You came back and acted like we _stole_ from you when we, I fucking _saved_ it. And you’re fucking right, I am an idiot, because I thought -”

He paused and winced, feeling as though he might break apart, limb by limb.

He thought of pressing his cheek to James’ chest rising and falling as he slept and the way they’d held hands in his car.

“I let you - I spent years building you up in my head and, fucking, fucking nursing this _crush_ \- I let you manipulate me and fucking use me and -”

He lowered his voice but was sure the whole place could still hear how it had broken.

“Aleksandr -”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Aleks said as calmly as he could, and wouldn’t be saying it again. “Get out of my way.”

Novawas breathless, still looking wild, and he didn’t fucking move.

“James,” Aleks said quietly, refusing to looking away from his stare, knowing they were being watched by everyone in the shop and there wasn’t any reason to raise his voice. Not anymore.

He still wasn’t moving and Aleks was too exhausted to deal with it. The pain that was reined in by adrenaline was rolling back and he couldn’t make it another round without collapsing. With the last of the energy, Aleks pushed by Nova, clenching his jaw and keeping his sights on the door. He needed to get out of there. Needed to get on the street, get some air, clear his head of Nova’s face and the things he’d said.

The chime jingled as Aleks pulled back the door and he didn’t look back.

He hailed a cab two streets away and collapsed into it without even a groan of pain. Everything was pulsing weirdly, and he had some good shit at home that would hopefully knock him out.

Not even two minutes later he was bent over his knees, face in his hands, and fighting back the tidal wave of misery that tried to sweep him away. The previous arguments with Brett, the things Nova had said, Michael’s _it’ll work out_ , and Geoff’s kindness, and the guy with the bat in that alley, the girl whose name he couldn’t remember because his head was so fucked, the unrest on his turf, the regret and the anger that he still couldn’t help but be happy that James _had_ come back, that he was alive, the love, _fuck_ , how much he loved him.

It all just crashed over him, yanking him out to sea, as he tried to stay afloat. The Fakes were probably fed-up with him bringing drama into their place. It was supposed to be safe for not just him, but everyone who came there to relax. Michael had been forced to deal with his wallowing way too fucking much and he doubted that any of them would appreciate how he’d just pissed Nova off and bounced.

He weighed his options, sitting in the back of a smelly cab with the fingers of his right hand pressed over his eyes: go back and maybe face Nova again long enough to apologize to Michael and Geoff, at the very least _or_ just go home, take his painkillers, admit to the crew that he’d fucked up beyond belief _yet again_ and suggest they just shoot him to put them all out of his misery.

He groaned, scrubbed his eyes, and sat back up slowly.

“Hey,” he caught the cabbie’s attention, “can you swing around? Back to where you picked me up?”

-

The Brew wasn’t too far from his apartment but the ride back still felt like it took not nearly as long as it should have.

The cab stopped just about where it picked him up, two streets away from the café. It was late enough that by the time he got back most of the surrounding businesses had closed their doors or were in the process of. Which eased his anxiety a little. The streets were emptier than they’d been. Quieter.

He paid the cabbie, tipping him a little too well only because his limbs weren’t up to digging any other bills from his wallet, then managed to get the door open. Getting in and out of cars made his ribs hurt but being able to stand up straight eased the pain a little, and the crisp of the night air brought enough relief to his aches that he was able to blink his composure back into place before he started walking.

The front lights of the Brew were off, but there were still lights coming from the back toward the counter and Geoff’s table, and Aleks could make out a few of them behind the counter - Jeremy, Gavin, Jack. Maybe Ryan. As he got closer he could hear something going on, but it wasn’t until he slipped back inside it became clear. Mostly because the muffled voices suddenly grew loud enough for Aleks to realize that it was yelling.

For a moment, he couldn’t make out what was being said. Jack looked up at the sound of the door chime and her eyes widened when she saw him. She took a deep breath and let it out with an annoyed huff, stepping from around the counter with her arms out as if she had plans on knocking him right back out the door. But before she could, the mess of noise started to make sense and Aleks rushed forward, sidestepping her on his way to the back.

James was yelling, but it was Michael’s voice that turned Aleks’ blood cold.

“You’re out of fucking line, Nova!”

“Oh, fuck off, Mogar,” James yelled, and there was a sound of something hitting the wall. “Don’t try that shit with me.”

“Jesus Christ!” Michael screamed and Aleks took a step forward to try to get a better look, heart in his throat. Gavin stopped him by grabbing the back of his shirt. “Don’t you think we fucking would have -”

“No,” James snapped, cutting him off. ”I don’t. I think you all fucking watched him hobble in here and stuffed him full of coffee and muffins and pretended it didn’t occur to you for a goddamn second you’re partially responsible!”

“ _We’re_ responsible? Us?”

Heart racing, Aleks dragged Gavin’s skinny frame with him, made his way closer, brushing by Jeremy and Ryan to finally get a look at what was happening. At the back of the shop, at the end of a long hallway that led to what looked like an office, James and Michael were at each other’s throats. Leaned against the desk was Geoff, arms crossed, head tilted back like there was a headache he was trying to stave off.

“Yes!”

James was pacing in the little space available, looking between Michael and Geoff like he wanted to tear them apart. But Aleks could see the cracks in his demeanor. It wasn’t Nova starting trouble. There was nothing from the warehouse present. It was James, and he looked frayed and tired.

“The entire fucking city fell apart when you walked away and you all sat here doing fucking nothing! Playing like you’re neutral! Like you have nothing to fucking do with all the shit going on out there! Like you didn’t set this stage and then run off half way through the show!”

It was directed at Geoff. James had stopped his pacing to stand in front of him, and Aleks couldn’t see his face, but he could see Geoff. He wasn’t there anymore. Aleks had never met the Kingpin, but he was there now. The same way there was James and then there was Nova.

But it was Michael who answered.

“Don’t fucking blame us because you left him wide open for this shit. You did this, Nova, not us. It was your beef that almost got Aleks killed, motherfucker. If you weren’t such a goddamn prick all the time -”

James _hadn’t_ been a prick all the time. Watching their dogs play at the park, sometimes he’d been easy-going and funny and that big wheeze he called a laugh would break and he’d _giggle._ He’d been wonderful. It just wasn’t real.

There was a tension from the Fakes looking on with him. Aleks could feel it radiating off them in waves. Gavin let go of his hold on Aleks and instead pressed a light, careful hand to his back. It felt like an apology somehow and even though Michael was arguing against what James was saying, Aleks wasn’t sure the rest of them felt the same.

Jack and Jeremy couldn’t see to meet his eye. And Ryan, usually steady as a rock, was _vibrating._

“You don’t know shit about us,” James shouted and Aleks felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. His palms had begun to sweat.

“I just heard - hell, we all just heard - everything we need to know, man. What was it? Oh, yeah. _Manipulated_ and _used_.”

Aleks could see them now so when something smashed, he knew it was from the lamp James threw across the room, barely missing Michael’s head. Michael didn’t even flinch. He just pressed on.

“I thought he had you all wrong, man. That wasn’t the fucking Nova I remembered. But you came in here with your girl, made sure he knew he didn’t mean shit to you, and right the fuck after -” Michael caught himself, seemed to remember they weren’t alone. And Aleks exhaled shakily. He didn’t need all of the Fakes to know about his goddamn _dick pics_. “What did you expect?”

James looked bewildered for a moment, as if Michael had thrown him a curve ball and he wasn’t even aware they’d been playing a game. And then he straightened out, his shoulders pushed back and chest out and jaw locked so tight Aleks thought vaguely he’d get a migraine if he wasn’t careful.

To his surprise, James didn’t take the bait. Instead he rounded on Michael, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You - all of you - holed up here and watched Los Santos eat itself fucking whole. Maybe I did too but I was fucking _gone._ You watched it through your goddamn windows.”

Michael paused for a second, looked at Geoff and then down the hall towards the Fakes Aleks was standing with. He didn’t seem to notice him but Aleks couldn’t be sure.

“You could have protected him,” James said, his voice rising again. Aleks took step forward, no one stopping him, and then another. “You could have Faked his crew and no one would’ve fucking dared to take a bat to him.”

Michael _laughed._

 _“_ You’re really going to stand there and pretend you give a shit about Aleks? After what you did to him? You manipulative piece of shit. Now _that’s_ the Nova I know.”

Aleks saw it coming before Michael could finish the sentence. The way James’ face twisted and darkened, the clench of his fist, and he rushed forward without thinking.

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” James yelled. “Don’t you don’t know a fucking thing, you fucking -”

Aleks pushed his way between them right as he lunged forward. James’ eyes widened and he managed to shift his weight from a punch into a brush of his shoulder against Aleks’ chest as he stumbled, nearly toppling over to stop himself from slamming into him. Aleks winced at the shoulder-jab to his bruised ribs but grabbed him with the only hand he could, his fingers wrapping into his hoodie and pressing as hard as he could against his chest. He managed to push him back several feet, and would have kept just marching him backwards right out of the café if James hadn’t caught his footing enough to stop himself from being moved.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked frantically, but James just stared at him, winded as if Aleks had punched him. “Stop! Fucking stop, you dumbass. What the fuck are you _doing_.”

“Get him out of here, Aleksandr.”

Geoff’s voice shot through the room like a very tired bullet but Aleks couldn’t tear his eyes away from James and the way he was looking at him.

“Yeah,” Aleks manages, pushing at James’ chest again. James lets him this time. “Yeah, we’re - sorry, seriously, both of us, hands and knees, real sorry,”

“No, I ain’t,” James said, but he was still staring at Aleks.

“Just sort this shit out before you come back to my coffee house, motherfuckers!” Geoff groaned after them, but Aleks could barely hear him through the rushing in his ears.

James didn’t say anything at all, watching Aleks with those big fucking eyes of his, dark with confusion and anger and frustration and maybe hurt. He just let Aleks push him - more of a guide, really, because he was walking backward before Aleks had to really put any pressure on him to do it.

He only turned when he got to the door, and then only to push it open with way too much force. Aleks followed him, ready to start berating, but James beat him to the first word.

“Did you think I was with _Anna!?_ Is that what this is about!?”

“Jesus _Christ_ , James!” Aleks shouted, voice cracking with the volume, “What in the actual, god-fearing _fuck_ is wrong with you!? You just _threw a lamp at Mogar!_ ”

“We aren’t fucking dating, Aleksandr! She’s _married to Asher_ and I was - I wanted - _we_ had, I thought -” He made a useless gesture between them, agitated and loud in the middle of this fucking empty street right outside of _The AH Brew_. “I wasn’t _flaunting_ her!”

“Your priorities here are really fucked,” Aleks shouted back, but mostly because he couldn’t - think about that. About any of that, about all of what James just said, that he’d _wanted_ \- “Are you listening to me? You just _attacked_ Michael Jones in the middle of his own goddamn café, James!”

“I don’t _give a shit_ about that!” James whirled around to face him from where he’d been pacing, “Just tell me what’s going on, Aleks! Explain it like I’m stupid. I had to find out through the fucking _grape vine_ that you were almost _killed!_ ”

“I -” Aleks dropped his casted arm, feeling - small, suddenly. He didn’t have the wherewithal to absorb anything he’d just heard, not yet anyway, and James was looking at him so _sadly_ , “I...but.”

“I thought -” James scrubbed at his face, and it was naked with feeling, “Didn’t you feel it too?”

Aleks faltered, no longer sure of anything. He suddenly thought of Trevor, how he’d said it didn’t make sense that Nova would’ve been playing him, how it was _weird_ and almost as if he wasn’t trying to kill them at all. And Aleks’ brain raced through everything he knew, all the things he could remember from the last months. Desperate to find some truth in what he’d assumed about James’ motives and the things Brett was convinced of outside of Anna.

But he couldn’t find any. All he knew what was his gut was telling him, what it had been telling him for weeks - that James hadn’t been faking any of it.

“Christ,” James turned around again and walked down the street, far enough that Aleks thought that he was leaving, before he turned around and didn’t stop until he was barely a foot from him, “Just. Tell me what’s going on. I’m real fuckin’ confused here, man, and I don’t like that shit at _all_. People are telling me that _I’m_ the bad guy in this situation and I’m man enough to admit that’s probably true, but I _don’t know what I did_. How did I use you? How did I manipulate you? Where the fuck did _that_ come from!?”

Aleks opened his mouth to answer but found that he didn’t have any words. He’d just - he’d been _so sure_. So sure. But here James was, and he suddenly wasn’t so fucking sure after all.

“Is it that I ditched LS?” James started up again when he didn’t answer. His voice was low and strained and full of confusion. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re fucking right, I was angry and scared and I jumped ship when the Hub blew because it fuckin’ hurt to be around here. Is it that I came _back_? I can’t fucking apologize for that, you were right and I had responsibilities that I couldn’t just leave forever.”

“No,” Aleks swallowed., “No, it’s not - I think, I just think. I think I got this all wrong, dude.”

“Just tell me what you _want_ , Aleks.” James dropped his arms, looking tired and _sad_. “Because I honestly can’t tell but I want to give it to you if I can. Jesus, I would have given it to you that fuckin’ night if I hadn’t left.”

“Why did you leave?” Aleks curled his fingers into fists, just trying to get his footing back. He was having a hard time putting these two men together, the merciless gangster that he knew Nova to be and the openly vulnerable James in front of him now, asking for him to clarify exactly where things had gone wrong. Probably, Aleks should tell him, the minute Asher announced he was alive.

“Your guy was on the warpath looking for me and Anna wanted me on lock down.”

“Lindsey,” Aleks realized, and closed his eyes for a long moment. “They thought you sent your guys after her.”

“Yeah,” James nodded, a tight, unhappy smile on his face. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Trevor said it didn’t make sense. I… didn’t want to believe it, but, shit, James things just didn’t _look_ good.”

“I figured you’d got it by then, dude,” James shook his head and tiredly rubbed his neck and shoulder. “After the warehouse. I fucking saw you in action and started asking around. You just - I realized I didn’t want to fight you guys. There wasn’t any reason to.”

“Got what?” Aleks asked. Because he needed to know. Needed James to spell it out for him.

Wanted to hear it.

Shifting uncomfortably, James took a deep breath. Forced himself to say, “I was fucking crazy about you. And then that night at the park, waking up with you like that… it felt good. Felt like where I wanted to be. I’d never -”

Aleks watched him closely, waiting, as James mulled over how to say the next of whatever he was thinking.

“I never fucking experienced that with anyone. Just like, talking all night and falling asleep and being so stupid happy you were still there when I woke up. When Anonymous told me you were at the bar, all I could think about was getting there and finally fucking kissing you like I should have in the park.”

Aleks couldn’t say anything. His chest was alarmingly tight, palms sweating, and he had no idea what to say even if he could get it out.

“Then things got really hot, really fast, and I needed a minute. I thought I’d have more than a night,” James shoved his hands in his pockets, brows drawn, “Shit, man, if I’d known that not going up with you was gonna be the end of it, I would have gone up.”

“No, yeah,” Aleks decided, “I’m definitely the bad guy, here.”

“I don’t care who the bad guy is,” James looked at him, met his eye, and there was no defensive anger. Just defeat and a bit of helplessness. “I seriously don’t. Whatever, dude, the place is big enough for us both. I’ll leave you alone if your crew leaves mine alone. It’s not like there’s a ladder to climb with the Fakes out of business and we’re not hurting for the cash. We can fuckin’ time share the park or something and you can have the café. I ain’t gonna be welcome there anytime soon and I don’t particularly wanna be, anyway.”

Aleks knew he should say something. This was the part where he had to apologize and admit he’d fucked this up, but it was all very overwhelming and he needed a moment to process it. What James was saying and the implications that maybe this entire thing had just been _his_ fault. A stupid fucking misunderstanding brought upon by Brett’s paranoia, the ghost of Nova’s reputation, and Aleks’ bullshit insecurities.

James sighed then nodded and Aleks physically saw the shift from vulnerable to guarded, the way his dark eyes lost that soft sheen. And then he was back to being _Nova_ , the badass gangster Aleks had fallen for in the first place but now didn’t want nearly as bad as he wanted _James_.

“Bye, Aleks,” he said, and it didn’t sound at all like a _see you later_.

Aleks couldn’t find his tongue until James was already walking away, shoulders hunched.

“I thought you were too good to be true.” He finally admitted.

James stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I built you up in my head,” Aleks said, figuring he should just...lay it all out. “And then I actually got to know you and all of that crumbled away and you got built up in a new way because I was - shit, I was way too into you, way too fast.”

That first time at the café, when Aleks had popped his drink all over his face and stomped out, the first glimpses of depth when dealing with the Christ Punchers, and that unexpected moment in the dog park when he’d been sweet to Mishka even though she’d scared his dog. Yeah, Aleks had been primed to fall for _Nova_ , but James had taken him by surprise.

“And it kinda sucked, because you’re. Well. You’re Nova. After you died everything was a mess. Kind of a power vacuum, and shit was bad, and I respected you a lot. You - I didn’t want your name to turn to fucking dirt. So we started a crew and pushed everyone else out and held it down.”

James finally turned, that guarded look still on his face.

“That was nice of you.” he finally said. “And weird.”

“I guess.” Aleks shrugged, and then remembered too late that doing that fucking hurt. He winced, and James took a step closer. “I didn’t do it to be nice or...weird, I guess. I did it because I was half in love with you and you had no idea who I was but I didn’t want your name in the mud while I was around.”

“Aleks,” James hesitated, “That’s...that’s a lot. I don’t...I don’t understand, really. What I did to, you know, deserve that. You did it for me?”

“That’s what I said, asshole,” Aleks huffed, his face burning with embarrassment. This was the single most fucking humiliating thing he’d ever done, and the first time he was admitting the real reason that he’d forced Brett to start the Immortals with him in the first place. “You know, _Immortals._ Some things don’t have to die.”

“Jesus,” James blinked, then blinked again a few more times. From the light of the café, Aleks could see his cheeks flushing - though not, Aleks thought, from anger this time.

“But then you came back and you were an asshole about us being here. If you’d just _asked_ , I bet Brett could have probably been talked into sharing or trading since he wants to expand anyway. But instead, you _Deebo’_ ed our Lambo deal and started snatching bits and pieces back like you wanted some sorta turf war, so we gave you one. Maybe it wasn’t the attention I wanted from you, but it was good enough for me and I was pissed enough to put up a fight.”

“Wow.” James sounded a little strangled. His face had turned possibly even redder than Aleks’, “I, uh. Sure misjudged that situation, huh.”

“A bit.” Aleks admitted, a quick smile on his lips, “But then, we started...whatever we were doing, and Brett was getting suspicious and angry that I wasn’t too worried about you coming after us and we got into a big fight about it so I went to the bar. I was just...trying to blow off steam and get you out of my head because it was fucking up my crew -”

“By getting off with someone who just happened to look like me?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Aleks said loudly, “Shut up. I was trying to blow off some steam, but you showed up and you - acted interested, and I, you know, between the fuckin’ dog park and the Christ Punchers and here, I thought maybe I had a chance. Except I managed to get you all the way home...then you just - left. And, yeah, you texted me and shit went down with that, but...you left.”

James frowned again, deeper, his brows getting in on the action this time. “I do that to you a lot, apparently.”

“Yeah, well. Then you show up the next morning with a pretty woman all up in your space and introduce her to Geoff and you’re calling her your girl and ignoring me and -”

“And you thought I…” James pressed his palm to his forehead and sighed the deepest sigh Aleks had ever heard, “Yeah, okay. That’s...that’s a fair assumption.”

“I flipped my shit,” Aleks shrugged, looking from James to the poster for some movie that came out two years ago on the wall of the knitting place across the street, “Michael calmed me down a little bit, helped me not go fuckin’ ballistic in the café, and then I went home and confessed to Brett that I had attempted to sleep with the enemy and that’s why we hadn’t been fighting back when you edged in on us, and he told me I was compromised by, you know, the whole being in love with you thing, and homebased me.”

“And you’re not exactly a homebody,” James filled in the rest.

“Something like that.” Aleks lifted his casted arm again, used his fingers to gingerly rub the arm through his sling. He had a feeling he’d be wearing it for a couple more days to follow at this point. “I was just...sick of being at home, so I took Mishka out for a walk pretty late at night and got blindsided. If a woman hadn’t shot at him, I would have been toast, for sure.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” James murmured. His eyes were gleaming again, the closer he got. He’d stopped a few feet away again, though, keeping a measured distance between them. “I know.”

“What?” Aleks scoffed, bitter, “Did he tell the whole world everything he did? We couldn’t even fuckin’ track him down, I couldn’t remember shit about him and the woman hadn’t seen him close.”

“No,” James said, in a tone that meant he was admitting something, “He told me when I hunted him down and broke his legs.”

Aleks snatched his eyes back to James, poster forgotten, “You _what_?”

“Look,” And it was James’ turn to be embarrassed, to closely examine the poster across the street, bathed in shadow so dark that the shape of it was barely even visible, “Asher told me what happened and I...kinda lost it for a hot minute. Hunted him down, you know, all that jazz. Avenged your honor, or whatever.”

“Avenged my honor.” Aleks repeated, a slow grin forming on his cheeks. It pulled uncomfortably on literally all of his face bruises, but he couldn’t help it. “You fucking broke his legs.”

“Well.” James cleared his throat, “I maybe did more than that.”

“Like what?” Aleks had to ask, just a little bit delighted.

“...a lot.” James shrugged carefully, “I was, uh. Real mad. And I didn’t use aluminum like a fuckin’ chump.”

“That’s why Brett couldn’t find him. You got there first.”

There was a long moment between them, silent except for the distant sounds of the city, as Aleks tried to absorb everything just said. It all made sense, at least he thought it might, but it turned his gut sour to think all of this happened because he’d thought of the worst of James. That maybe James had thought the same of him. Suddenly and fervently Aleks wished he could go back to the first day he’d seen Nova alive in the café and, instead of taking the bait of his attitude, simply told James he was glad to see him. That a part of him always believed he was still alive.

But he couldn’t go back. And maybe it was better that way.

“You didn’t have to do that. We would have handled it,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky from all the raw emotion bubbling up in his chest.

James looked at him with dark eyes and said quietly, “Asher wasn’t sure if you survived it. For all I knew -”

“I’m okay,” Aleks found himself saying, even if it wasn’t completely true. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep himself upright. He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, “Thank you. For, uh, you know, doing that. For me.”

Blinking rapidly, James looked away, scratching his beard and shifting his weight restlessly. Aleks took a moment to glance around. Besides the corner stores, the street was closed for the night; hell, it didn’t even seem like the Fakes were still around. It felt like him and James could be the only people around for miles and the silence that settled between them again felt every inch of it. They were both waiting for something, but Aleks didn’t know what. Or maybe he did, but it seemed impossible even after the shitload of confessions they’d thrown at each other.

“So, uh,” James started, and cast his eyes back on Aleks, “did you say your man pulled you off the street for being _in love_ with me?”

“No,” Aleks blurted immediately, glad for the dark and praying it would hide the heat he felt immediately rush to his face. “Definitely didn’t say that.”

“I’m pretty sure you did,” James grinned. It was bright and genuine and lit up his eyes. And Aleks couldn’t back up, afraid to hit the alley wall to hard, as James closed the distance between them. His eyes were kind and searching, looking all over Aleks’ face. “Definitely.”

“Mistake. Slip of the tongue,” he said, but they both knew it was bullshit.

James smelled good, felt warm, his body pulled Aleks closer like a fucking magnet. He’d missed him, even when he hated him Aleks had missed him.

The only response James gave was a little hum and he reached up to very, very carefully brush his knuckles along Aleks’ jaw.

“What are we _doing_ , James?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes of the last time Aleks had asked him that, pressed against each other in that bar, the air between them hot and thick and them touching each other with desperate, greedy hands.

“Whatever the fuck we want,” he whispered through a smile, cupping Aleks’ cheek.

Aleks leaned forward, the best he could with his slinged arm between them, and kissed him. The noise James made against his mouth was fucking wrecked, like Aleks had pulled it out of his throat unwillingly, and his body jerked forward and then back - wanting to press him against the wall but realizing he couldn’t, not without hurting him. He seemed to have no idea what to do with his hands, where it was okay to touch Aleks, where it was safe, so instead he deepened the kiss until Aleks’ legs felt like they’d buckle.

When they broke apart, James stayed close, breathing erratically and vibrating, and with this eyes closed he said, “Come home with me, Aleksandr.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, catching the sleeve of James’ hoodie and tugging, and then immediately, “Wait, no. I can’t.”

James tensed and Aleks moved his hand up his arm to his shoulder, pressed his fingers against the warm skin of his neck, and felt flush with how badly he wanted to touch him everywhere.

“I need - I have to take a fistful of painkillers, dude. They’re at my house, it’s not - After all this? Don’t be stupid. Come home with _me_.”

He couldn’t prevent the nervous wince when James raised his hands, taking Aleks’ face between them, but he touched him like he was handling something fragile, brushing his thumbs lightly over his bruised cheeks. There was a fleeting thought that he wished he was still wearing his sunglasses to hide the bruises, but he really wouldn’t trade the way James was looking at him for anything. He’d never made so much fucking eye contact in his life.

There were wheels turning in James’ head and it took him a minute to say, “Okay. Your place. Do you have your car?”

Aleks shook his head. “Linzbot. You can drive.”

James wagged his eyebrows until Aleks made a face.

“You gonna hold my hand again?”

It was delivered like a joke, but his right hand dropped touch the cast, fingers fanning out until they found Aleks’. Their knuckles intertwined briefly, teasing, a question just like everything else. So Aleks turned his hand and took hold of James’. It was awkward with the cast, but the meaning was there, and he leaned in for another kiss as an answer.

It was because of his fucked up arms, that’s all, that he didn’t say anything when James opened the car door for him.

He’d been half drunk the last time he was in the car, and as James walked around to the driver’s side, he took a moment to look around. Some fast food wrappers by his feet, a good layer of dust on the dashboard, and hanging from the rear view mirror a few old, odorless air fresheners, and a beaded bracelet. The car was a fucking Hyundai.

None of it was anything he’d expect from Nova; it was James, and it filled him with something tender, and realer than what he’d felt before. Made the crush he’d had seem silly in comparison As soon as James put the car in drive Aleks offered his hand, palm up to avoid complication with the cast, and James took it.

It should feel - dumb, probably. To be fuckin’...holding hands and driving home like this, taking James back to his apartment, where Brett will no doubt come very early in the morning to what Aleks was sure would be at least four texts about their adventures in the café.

But it didn’t. It just felt good. Aleks had a lot of things he _should_ be doing, but this is everything he wanted to be doing and, you know what, he deserved to just do what he wanted after the last few weeks he had.

It _did_ , though, remind him of the conversation about communication that he’d been implicitly having with his crew over the last few weeks and he breathed out deeply at a red light and reluctantly untangled his hand from James’ to start digging around in his pocket.

“Looking for something?” James glanced at him and Aleks remembered not to shrug this time.

“Gotta call Lindsey,” he sighed. “Let her know that I’m, you know. With you. Hopefully she’ll keep Brett from popping in. We’re trying out this whole...open communication thing or whatever.”

“Sounds stressful,” James wrinkled his nose up, but Aleks could tell he was amused and he pinched his arm before he pressed Lindsey’s name and pretended to be distracted with his phone call so James couldn’t take revenge.

“Hey,” Lindsey answered with pep in her voice, “ready for a pick-up?”

“Actually,” Aleks tapped his fingers against his chest, “funny story.”

“Aleks.” She sighed and he bit back a grin.

“No, no, it’s. It’s good.”

“Fine, okay. Hit me with it, then. What’s going on?”

“Remember how...well, remember how there was another girl?”

“With Nova?”

“Yeah. Well, here’s the funny part. There wasn’t another girl. There’s a few things we _all_ might have gotten wrong about this.”

“...Aleks, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I think so? James is taking me back to my place and we’re gonna chill there tonight and then maybe I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” Aleks said all in one breath, and it was maybe a little winded by the end but who could blame him, truly?

“...He’s gonna kill you.” she said, a bone-deep weariness in her voice, and they both knew who _he_ was.

“Not if you distract him until we can get everything figured out.” Aleks wheedled, “ _Please_ , Linz, just one night.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “I hate you, Marchant. You know that, right? _Hate_. You’re so lucky he’s in a good mood tonight. _And_ , you’ll be happy to know, we finally figured out why we couldn’t find your attacker.”

Aleks glanced at James, “Yeah, so did I.”

“Get this, it was _Nova_ -” she started and then stopped, waited a second. “You just have to rob the enjoyment from every aspect of my life, don’t you?”

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, “Pretend I didn’t say anything. Go on. Why couldn’t you find him?”

“ _Because_ ,” She said with emphasis, “Because _Nova_ found him! So Brett is in a good mood because he doesn’t have to worry about the Christ Punchers anymore and he thinks that Nova is more worried about outside threats than us right now.”

“To be fair, he isn’t wrong.” Aleks admitted and she just groaned louder and hung up on him. He grinned as he shoved his phone back in his pocket and his fingers were accepted back between James’ over the clutch.

“I think we’re going to be Hundar-free for at least the next twelve hours.”

“A lot we can do in twelve hours,” James wiggled his eyebrows and Aleks found himself grinning wider, enough that his nose hurt from it.

They didn’t talk much the rest of the way, just directions when James needed them, and Aleks had never hated that cast more than when he realized James’ thumb was rubbing little circles along where the top of his palm was covered.

James parked in the same spot he had weeks ago, Brett’s spot, and he turned the car off but neither of them tried to get out just yet. Aleks...really needed those painkillers, really badly, but he could hold off for just a little bit longer.

“We should…” James stopped for a second, like he was thinking of how he wanted to complete the sentence. “Get you those painkillers, huh?”

“Yes.” Aleks agreed, “We really should.”

“I guess there won’t be any climbing over the console this time, huh?” James joked, quiet, and Aleks didn’t even bother with an answer for that.

“Just, uh, wait there,” James asked and got out. Aleks watched him, bemused, hurry around the front of the car to get the door for him.

“This is only happening because my arms are fucked,” Aleks warned, “If you try to open a door for me when my hands work again, I’m gonna use them to punch you.”

“Sure,” James said around a smirk.

Aleks glared at him but struggled out of the car, and then leaned against the side because if he didn’t he was going to black out.

“Yeah, okay,” James hovered hands over his shoulders, face tight with worry. “We need you get you home. Which one is you?”

“First on the right,” Aleks said, a bit breathless, “Just, uh. Just give me a second. Wow, this is so - this is so fuckin’ sexy, huh?”

“Shut up,” James snorted. “Lean on me, dude. We’ll get you those drugs and then into bed.”

“Jesus, man, we’re in public,” Aleks joked, letting James wrap an arm around his waist. It fuckin’ _hurt_ but James was careful with him, as gentle as he could be, and they slowly made their way to the apartment’s door.

They made it into his apartment without him throwing up or blacking out or falling, and that was an achievement enough that he treated himself to three pills instead of the prescribed two.

“So,” James looked around the kitchen, “This is the infamous Immortal headquarters, huh?”

“Yep,” Aleks took another swallow from his water bottle, “Take in the majesty. The couch is where we go to bitch about your crew and the table is where we go to talk about who we’re gonna go bother and the white board on the fridge is where Lindsey keeps score of our debts.”

“Wow,” James glanced around again. “Impressive.”

“Don’t knock my apartment, dude, I live here,”

“No, no,” James grinned, and it was bright enough that Aleks had to look away, “It’s a good place for living. We, I mean, the Hub, it started out of an apartment, too, kinda. You’re on the right track or whatever.”

“Gee, thanks,” Aleks huffed, but it didn’t come out nearly as bitter as intended. The painkillers were kicking in and the blue spots in front of eyes were fading, the intense throbbing of his arms and ribs reduced to a dull ache. The relief so strong he felt like he was floating.

“I just meant,” James started, like he was worried he’d offended him, and Aleks would have _liked_ to pat his arm or something to let him know it was cool but that still didn’t seem like a good idea, even with the painkillers, so he just nudged his leg with his foot.

“Chill, dude. Can you just, uh,” he paused, weighing his options. “Get me to my room? It’s kind of a hassle to get undressed still, so.”

“Want some help?” James asked, somehow managing to keep it from sounding like an innuendo.

“I’m not gonna say no if you wanna undress me.”

“Can’t help myself, you’re just so _pretty_.”

A smile twitched across his lips but he just put his arm around Aleks’ waist again and slowly moved them into the bedroom. He’d pushed himself way too damn hard today and his body was finally shutting him the fuck down for even trying to take a full stride.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty.”

“I’ve called you pretty before,” James reminded him, and the context of _that_ made Aleks flustered enough to stop talking.

It was - weirdly intimate, almost too intimate for how new it was, having James pull his socks off after he toed off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, to help him ever-so-fucking-slowly ease his tank off - first from his casted arm, and then his head, before they guided it around his slinged up shoulder and arm.

Aleks hadn’t been kidding. The damage of the attack was...brutal-looking, if not hurting nearly as bad as it had. He allowed James to take it in, staring pointedly at his ceiling while he ran feather-light touches along Aleks’ sides and ribs, the dark purple marks on his hip bones and the bat-shaped bruises across the rest of his body.

“I know, I know,” he tried to ease the sudden tension. “Not much to look at. You missed your chance, buddy, I was hot as fuck a couple weeks ago and one of us probably still has the pictures to prove it.”

“I meant what I said,” James knelt next to him and carefully tugged at his sweats, “You’re fuckin’ - you’re beautiful, man. Yeah, you’re bruised to shit, but…” he swallowed and pressed a hand to the space just under his ribs. That part of him, miraculously, hadn’t been hurt.

“Stop saying stupid shit,” Aleks deflected. He stilled James’ hand with his own. “I’m not wearing anything under those. I got my pants, dude.”

“Yeah?” James looked up at him from where he was kneeling, eyes so fucking big and sparkling. “You sure?”

Aleks’ breathing hitched.

“Nope,” he said, looking down. “But if I tried to fuck you right now, I’d pass out and if you tried to fuck me, I would _definitely_ pass out. And if the pants come off I can’t promise anything _won’t_ happen so, for all parties involved…”

“Am I staying the night?” James asked as if it were genuine question he needed an answer to.

“If you don’t, I’m gonna be pissed.” Aleks said honestly, and James quirked up a smile at him. “The park was great but I’m ready to upgrade to a mattress.”

“I want to touch you, Aleks. I’ll be careful.”

“Oh, dude, don’t -” Aleks swallowed, tangled his fingers in the duvet he was sitting on, “don’t say shit like that unless you mean it, because -”

“I mean it.” James lifted up on his knees, tilted his head to kiss Aleks again and he had to close his eyes, just feel. The feeling of James’ lips on his, his beard rough but welcome on his face, nose lightly bumping Aleks’. He brushed his hands on his thighs, as careful as he’d promised, so gentle that he hardly felt them at all.

“If you mean it,” he whispered when James pulled away to look up at him again. The look on his face was familiar, made Aleks feel special in a way he wasn’t sure his heart could handle under its current stress load, “Then you’d better be getting naked, too.”

James laughed and it made Aleks warm from head to toe. He had missed the sound and being the one to make it happen. And for the foreseeable future, maybe, he’d get to hear it every day. Assuming they didn’t somehow die tonight and Brett somehow didn’t kill them tomorrow.

“Is it a strip tease if I’m not getting paid?”

“If I had singles and fine motor skills, you’d totally be getting paid,” Aleks assured him as James shrugged off his hoodie and pulled off his shirt.

He was confident for having been so unsure of his stay a moment ago, and he dropped the shirt to the carpet with ease before his hands settled on the button of his jeans.

“You’re _sure_?” he asked, and Aleks gave him a look that must have been convincing enough for him to get the message. His jeans joined the shirt and hoodie a second later, and then he was just in his boxers.

Aleks took him in, this man that he’d dreamed of for years, who he’d fallen so hard for, who he was currently, at this very second, still falling for. He was - wow. A lot. Tanned skin, tattoos aplenty on his forearms, if not quite as many as on Aleks’, and a few under his shirt that Aleks’ had never seen before but was going to take his time learning when he had the strength and dexterity. He was soft in his middle, and Aleks wanted to hold him and press their bodies together and just fucking feel him. He could _do_ that.

“Take them off, take them off,” he chanted, doing his best drunken frat bro impression and James cackled at him, shoulders shaking, face a little pink but all around pleased and, without further ado, did just that.

Aleks tried to swallow but his throat was suddenly not working. Neither were his vocal cords, because James was there, standing in front of him, naked _for_ him, and letting him look. Look, he did, unable to _not_ feast his eyes on him, from his hairy legs to the tamed bush of curls above his dick to the soft belly and happy trail, the smattering of hair on his chest, the broad shoulders and defined arms and amused face and gleaming, dark curls on his head.

“Well?” he spread his hands a little, like he was putting himself on display, and Aleks could see the nerves in it, “Am I up to spec? Everything you ever thought it’d be?”

“More,” Aleks admitted hoarsely. “More. So much more.”

“You’re so gay,” James wrinkled up his nose at him and, in response, Aleks grinned and made a swirling motion with his fingers. “Oh, come on.”

“James, I’m _crippled_ , please,”

“Christ,” James sighed and turned in a slow, exaggerated circle. Yep, Aleks had always thought he’d have a nice ass, and he was right. “Are we happy now? Have you objectified my body enough, you patriarchal pig?”

“Nah,” Aleks shook his head, “Just stand there forever and let me look. Can we just do that tonight?”

“I’d hit you if you weren’t eighty percent bruises right now.”

“You into BDSM? Hit me, daddy,” Aleks wagged his eyebrows.

James came for him with an unimpressed snort to resume tugging on his sweats. This time, he stood up and let James work them down his legs, nearly swallowing his tongue when he knelt to help him get his feet out, face close to his groin. All his blood rushes south so quickly he had to sit down again. It was almost too much. Almost.

“There,” James stood up again, still smiling a little, “We’re both naked. I’m so proud of us. Lay down so I can touch you, now.”

“I don’t think this is fair,” Aleks said, but crawled to the head of the bed and made himself comfortable on his back once they’d shoved down the duvet, “I can’t exactly reciprocate.”

“I think,” James crawled in next to him, balancing himself over Aleks with one hand on the other side of his body so he could lean down and kiss him chastely. It was followed by a second and third and fourth before he continued, “I have a lot of apologizing to do. Can I just do this for you tonight? Will your manly pride allow that?”

“I,” Aleks’ voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “I _guess_ , if you _insist_.”

“I really do,” James did, indeed, insist.

James stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, Aleks barely managing not to squirm under the scrutiny, before he leaned to the side and swept the hand not holding him up along the length of Aleks’ body. His touch was feather-light, just as he promised, and surprisingly didn’t hurt at all even when he brushed against the bruises. Skin hot, tingling from James’ hand and maybe a little bit the painkillers, Aleks didn’t need to ask what James had in mind. His hand stopped on the outside of his thigh and swept inward, nudging just slightly, until Aleks spread his legs.

The pictures had displayed his junk in high definition but James was breathing deeply, a heavy rise and fall of his chest, but this was something else. The weight of his eyes made Aleks shiver, reaching with his casted arm to dig his fingers into James’ side. James ignored him. Instead he moved closer, wary not to jostle any injuries, and pressed a kiss right under the curve of Aleks’ ribs. His beard scratched but his lips were soft and he dragged them down his torso, his tongue peeking out just enough to leave a cool trail behind in its wake.

“God, this is fucking frustrating,” Aleks groaned and James only glanced up at him for a moment before rubbing his nose along the light trail of hair under his belly button.

“Once you’re healed, we’ll make up for it.”

“Still frustrating,” he sighed, and gasped when he felt James’ hand, warm and firm, wrap around the base of his dick.

“The pictures were good, dude, but they did _not_ do you justice,” James hummed appreciatively. His hand felt like it was _everywhere_ , long fingers stroking up his cock, teasing the head and then dragging back down to cup him, “I should have fucking come upstairs.”

Aleks didn’t get a chance to say _yes, yes, you should have_ , because James’ mouth was on him, tight and hot and wet, and everything Aleks wanted to say came out as a jumbled, surprised noise.

Very carefully he reached to untie James’ hair, carding his fingers through the thick curls until they loosened. His hand sank deeper, cupping the back of his neck to guide the rhythmic bob of his head and press of tongue. Aleks couldn’t hold in the moan James drew out of him, hips flexing, wanting to move but knowing he couldn’t. Instead he moved his hand down to his shoulder, to touch his soft, warm skin.

James had told him to imagine this, and he had, sort of, but his imagination hadn’t come close. And when the hand that moved to petting his thigh slipped between his legs, Aleks spread them further without thinking, and gave a small, broken noise when two of James’ fingers press against his hole. James didn’t seem to be asking for more than that, he was just touching, and that alone was enough for Aleks to feel fucking crazy with want.

James called him beautiful, and Aleks thought it was bullshit both times, but the way he was touching him seemed to back it up, and before he could think about what he was doing, he was twisting his hips away and telling him to stop.

James pulled away instantly, both his mouth and his hand. “I’m sorry, shit, _shit,_ I’m sorry,” he babbled. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” Aleks breathed and tightened his grip on James’ shoulder. “No, just - _Jesus_ , we have to figure something the hell out. I want -”

The warmth of James’ laughter struck Aleks right in the chest, blooming so sweetly he felt dizzy from it.

“You’ll get hurt,” James said softly. “I think I fucking did enough of that.”

“James,” Aleks warned, but it came out more of a plea.

“Okay, let me think. Let me -” he paused, his eyebrows furrowing so hard Aleks wanted to smooth his thumb between them. “How’s those painkillers working out?”

Aleks thought about it for a moment, and yeah, yeah he felt okay. Achy and tender but much better than he’d been when James was dragging him into the apartment. He nodded and James rubbed at his unbruised hip for a moment as Aleks looked up at him, knowing what he wanted but debating whether or not it was possible.

It was, he decided, as quickly as the question presented itself. The Oxys were doing their job well enough, and he’d waited so long for this, wanted James in one way or another for almost as long as he could remember.

James stood up and then nearly toppled over when Aleks said, “I wanna ride you. Want you on your back.”

“Jesus Christ, you can’t just say things like that,” James breathed, sounding a little hysterical. “And no? You’re _crippled._ Yourword, not mine.”

“In the drawer,” Aleks said stubbornly and pointed his chin at the nightstand.

“Aleksandr -“

“Trust me, I can handle it.”

James grinned. “I _bet._ You probably handle it _really good._ But.”

“This is happening.” Aleks sat up slowly, and scooted to the edge of the bed to swing his legs over the side. “I wanna be in your lap.”

“God, you’re a fucking bossy little brat.”

Aleks just nodded. It wasn’t untrue.

Relenting, James leaned down to kiss him so carefully Aleks thought he could slide right off the bed into a puddle.

Once he got all the shit they needed James hopped up on the bed, arranging the pillows until they were propped against the headboard and settled back. God, he looked fucking _good_ in Aleks’ bed, his hair falling down around his shoulders, thick thighs spread, his cock hard and leaking, lying along the crease of his leg. As soon as Aleks was healed enough, _just_ enough, he was going to wreck him.

“Come on, then,” he whispered, and took Aleks by the hip to steady him as he climbed up.

He’d fucking dreamt about this; climbing into his lap at the end of a heist and riding him, his name in James’ mouth. Wanted it that night in the car, pressed close together in the front seat, rutting against him as James slid his hand down the back of his pants. Wanted it more now as he stroked his hands from Aleks’ hips to his back and back down over his ass.

Despite not having full use of his arms, he felt steady in James’ lap, and brought one up to curl around his shoulders. The cast was awkward but he could still get his fingers in James’ hair. He sighed against Aleks’ mouth, a content and happy, and caught his mouth for another kiss. Deep and demanding but without any rush, taking his time like he was trying to commit it to memory.

Aleks felt fucking shaky, thought he was trembling even though he was sure he wasn’t, and it was something new and wholly terrifying.

“You sure?” James asked again.

Aleks pressed their foreheads together and groaned. “Yes, James, for the last time. I trust you.” He kissed him on his mouth, cheek, and temple, whispering between them, “Open me up, c’mon.”

The noise James made was fucking _gorgeous._ It bounced around the room like music, and Aleks moaned when James’ finger pressed against him again, slick this time, and pushed inside. Aleks curled closer to him the best he could, unable to stop the soft little noises he was making as James worked at him, adding another finger and stretching.

With Aleks’ arm still around his shoulders, James let go of his hip and brought that hand to his cock, fisting Aleks slowly as his other hand continued, pressing deeper and teasing a third finger.

“I’m ready, just -”

“Aleks.”

“ _James_ ,” he mimicked, and moaned quietly at the feeling of James’ laughing underneath him. “I’m ready. If you don’t put your dick inside me, I’ll -”

“What?” he asked, looking up at Aleks, his face open and amused.

“Bite you.”

“Promise?”

Acting annoyed was difficult with James’ hand on his dick but he tried, rolling his eyes, and was met by another giggle. His heart was fucking _singing_.

James sat up a little, leaning forward and kissing his chest as he reached around to roll a condom on. Then his stupid pretty face was looking up at Aleks again, like hung the goddamn moon. Like he was something worth looking at that way.

He held him right where his ass and thigh met, the other hand on his dick to line them up, as Aleks lifted himself. At the first press he lowered his head, groaning when James shifted his hips, pushing upward as he guided Aleks down, and it wasn’t until he was fully seated in James’ lap that he let out a long, shuddering breath.

He felt a mess. Like James was disassembling him. Broke him apart piece by piece and learned how each of them worked, where to touch, how to touch, the best way to move. Aleks was smart enough to know that wasn’t true, smart enough to know there was no such thing as meant to be, no kismet in the world, and that it all just _seemed_ that way because he wanted this so much. But it was difficult to convince himself of any of that. Not when James was buried inside him, both of them rocking together slowly and pressing the sweetest, most affectionate kisses to Aleks’ jaw and throat and shoulder. Holding him around the waist with both arms, keeping him steady and safe.

“God, _fuck_ ,” James breathed, his voice hitching against Aleks’ collarbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re so good, Aleksandr. I’ve been dying to touch you, to -”

Aleks wanted to tell him to _shut the fuck up_ , that it was too much for him to say those things and mean them, but every time he opened his mouth all he managed were weak moans. James was holding him gently, moving them so slowly it was torturous, and every place they were touching was covered in sweat, felt like an open flame.

He tried to chase that feeling, the burning pleasure, but James stopped him, wouldn’t let him go any faster than that slow pace he’d set. Gentle twitches of his hips, barely any movement at all from Aleks aside from the shivering he couldn’t control, the flexing of his fingers in James’ hair. He tried to stay relaxed, knew his body was going to hurt in the morning and he’d be lucky to get up at all, let alone move around, but it was so hard to fight against the urge to tense up, fight against the rolling pleasure.

“James,” he choked, leaned forward to hide his face in James’ shoulder, resting his forehead against his sweaty skin. And once he’d said it, the word wouldn’t stop coming out of his needy mouth.

He said it again, a soft cry, when James shifted his weight just enough and things were suddenly even more intense, sparking from his toes to his chest with each slow roll of their hips. The shuddering _ached_ , made his shoulders burn and his back stiff and his ribs throb even with all the painkillers, and he knew this was going to be bad in the long run but he couldn’t help it. He could only clutch at James’ hair, the back of his neck, whisper and beg with only his name on his lips.

“Aleks,” James whispered back, which was maybe the best part.

His beard scraped against Aleks’ temple before a hand was cupping his face, tilting so he could kiss him, coaxing his mouth open like he was asking permission, teasing their tongues together like they had never met before. Aleks pressed closer, soaking up James’ heat, moving together - all slick sweat and burning touches. His hands on James and James touching him too, along his spine and ass, his dick inside of him, his mouth on his.

“Next time,” James promised, sounding as wrecked as Aleks was and Aleks didn’t know what he was promising but he wanted it so much he could barely contain it.

His fingers brushed Aleks’ cheeks, at the edges of his black eyes, his jaw line, the shell of his ear, wherever he could reach as he spoke.

“Those pictures - fuck, I wanted to come upstairs with you. Wanted you -”

“James, please,” Aleks begged, just barely on the line between too desperate and having an ounce of pride left.

“I did,” James continued, holding on as tightly as he could without hurting him. “Those _pictures_ , Aleks. Wanted to taste you. Wanted you to fuck me.”

“Please,” Aleks said again, helpless, not even sure what he was asking for anymore.

His legs had started to ache and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay where he was much longer. But it would hurt if James put him on his back or his stomach or even his knees. Aleks couldn’t imagine stopping though, couldn’t imagine not having James inside him, holding him, touching him like he was, talking to him with that voice that he’d wanted so fucking badly to hear directed at him, fond and warm and so wanting that it stole his breath.

“Next time,” James promised again, sincere, and then he was sliding his hand from Aleks’ cheek, down his neck and chest, all the way down his stomach until he could wrap his fingers around Aleks’ dick again and start to jerk him off.

Aleks swore, voice shaking, and put his face more firmly against James’ neck, gasping and nearly sobbing..

He felt so safe like this, with James’ body around him, in his apartment, knowing that even if something _did_ happen, that James would be at his side to help.

That thought, and the way James twisted his hand, thumbed the head of his cock and then squeezed all the way back down to the base, did him in. Distantly he was aware of James encouraging him - _Come on, baby_ and _God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Aleks_ \- sweet things that had him toppling into James’ chest, clenching around his cock and rocking his hips, his toes twisting and curling into the bedding.

Between one second and the next, he was cumming, James’ hand steady and so fucking nice on his dick as he trembled through it.

James kissed him again, broken sighs about how pretty he looked, how much he turned James on, how much he wanted him, how glad he was that he’d got this second chance, and Aleks realized that he never wanted to do this with any other person again.

He was breathing too hard to even attempt to speak, but James’ arms were strong and supported him where he leaned against him. Aleks couldn’t stop rolling his hips and James showered him in appreciative kisses and sounds, one of his knees drawing up a little as Aleks felt him twitch and then twitch even harder inside of him.

“James,” he breathed, “James, don’t you dare fucking stop touching me.”

James - groaned, low and deep and long and Aleks felt him twitching again, harder than before, felt the way his hips bucked just the once, rocked Aleks up hard before he could get control again. He was shaking too.

Even when their hips had stilled, James kept touching him, just as Aleks’ asked. He kissed his face all over again, bringing his hands up to kiss them, too, stroking along his sides and thighs and back, careful not to brush bruises or hurt anything.

“I’m not gonna,” James finally said, after a long period of quiet in which they caught their breath. They had to move eventually, James helping Aleks sit up so he could pull out and tie the condom off.

“Okay,” Aleks swallowed. He brought both his hands up to cup James’ cheeks, rubbing his thumbs just under his eyes. “Good. Just stay this time. Okay?”

“I’m not leaving.” James promised. Another promise. “Are you okay?”

“Hurts,” Aleks admitted, “Like, like a lot. But I don’t regret it. Didn’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re an idiot,” James said fondly.

James rolled Aleks off of his lap and onto his back on the bed, propped up by two pillows like the doctor told him he needed to sleep.

His thighs _burned_ from being open for so long and every bruise and ache and pain on his body was alight even through the three pills he’d taken, but he almost liked it, liked knowing what had caused it.

James helped him straighten his legs, made sure he was comfortable, even grabbed his own shirt to clean them both up with before he tossed it back to the floor. But Aleks didn’t relax until he lied next to him, getting as close as was safe, touching him as much as he could.

“What now?” Aleks found himself asking, slurring a little through his exhaustion.

James kissed his shoulder.

“Sleep.” he decided, stroking Aleks so rhythmically that he was asleep almost before he finished the word.

-

The first thing Aleks felt was _pain;_ it yanked him from a deep sleep, pulsing from points all over his body. The second was a hand on him, long fingers curling and scratching soothingly right below his belly button. Aleks lied there for a moment with his eyes closed, trying to beat back the pain and his nerves, keep his breathing under control and give himself a few more seconds. But James shifted a little closer, not quite closing the careful distance between them, but enough for him to lean forward and press his face against Aleks’ bare arm, dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

Aleks could feel him smiling in the kiss, knew James knew he was awake, but they both seemed content to just lie there for as long as they could. The sun coming in through the pulled back curtains made the room feel hazy and warm, and the air was heavy in a way he knew meant it would be hot by midday. James swept his hand over Aleks’ torso, and just like the night before, there was no question in it. He wasn’t looking for anything and Aleks tangled their hands together and squeezed.

He needed to get up. Needed another handful of pills and to walk Mishka, feed both the girls, and try to figure out what the fuck he was going to say once Brett showed up, maybe stop by Geoff’s _again_ to apologize - or at least shoot Michael a text. But his bed was comfortable and all those things were so far away Aleks could barely see them. James kissed his shoulder again.

“I have to do things,” he shifted as he spoke and let out a pained noise he refused to be embarrassed about, “but I can’t move.”

“There’s pills and water on your nightstand. I took Mishka out and fed her and your cat,” James said. “You don’t have to do anything. I can’t shower for you though.”

Aleks rolled his eyes without opening them - there was no way James was this good all the time, he was definitely trying to make up for being such a colossal dickhead - maybe they both were - but it still left him a little overwhelmed.

“You’ve been busy,” he whispered, and wished so fucking badly he could just roll over and plaster them together.

“Even signed your cast.”

Very slowly, Aleks sat up to take the pills, and when he looked down at James felt sure his heart stopped. Sometime during the night he’d let his hair down completely and the sunlight was only doing him favors. He’d called Aleks beautiful so many times and suddenly it felt stupid he’d never said it back. James was gorgeous.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Only good things, I promise,” he said, and watched with amusement as Aleks took a look at his arm. He’d written _I like you,_ signed it with a heart and what looked to be a very bad drawing of a Corgi.

“You’re dumb,” Aleks sighed. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, Asher would never let me live it down if I wasn’t the first one to sign it.” James brushed a hand through his hair, sounding the tiniest bit flustered, “Now take your fuckin’ medicine dude, I hurt just looking at you.”

“Sunlight doesn’t do the sexy new purple hue of my entire body any favors, huh?” Aleks joked, and then realized that if he wanted his pills he’d either have to sit up or turn onto his bad shoulder. He’d truly strained it last night and it felt tense and lifeless, stiff and unwilling to move. He sighed, deep and put-upon. “I literally hate my life right now, dude..”

“It’s not forever,” James reminded him and set up to grab the pills for him. He reached over him and it brought the curls of his hair closer, let them brush against Aleks’ chest and chin and he remembered feeling the silk of them between his fingers the night before.

“It might as well be,” he muttered, but accepted the pills and popped three into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

“It sure gives me things to do to make things up to you,” James offered and tangled their fingers together again, like he couldn’t resist. Aleks was still trying to understand _that_ when James kissed his shoulder again, and didn’t stop. He worked his way up to Aleks’ neck and he found himself sighing for an entirely different reason, tilting his head a little so James could keep doing that. His beard was still scratchy but it was more tickling than painful and he had to bite back a grin and push at James’ chest to get him to stop.

“If you make me laugh with these ribs, motherfucker -” he warned, though the amusement in his tone gave him away.

“I’m not trying to make you laugh,” James hummed against his ear and Aleks’ face went hot.

“What _ever_ you’re trying to do,” he tried again, “Is not happening until the pills kick in, so,”

“I’m pretty sure you’re just gonna knock back out when those pills kick in, Aleks.”

“I have things to _do_ ,” Aleks patted the space between them for emphasis, “Brett’s gonna be here at some point and I’m still naked and you’re,” Aleks lifted the sheets, “You went out and then got re-naked, so,”

“What are the chances of him finding us like this and being so overwhelmed with happiness that we got our shit together he just leaves?”

“Right about where the chances of you beating up Michael are.” Aleks decided, thoughtful, and then laughed despite the sharp ache of his ribs when James grumbled in response because he couldn’t physically punch him for the crack.

“I could take him. You’ve never seen me in a street brawl. The fuck do you know?”

Aleks considered it for a moment, watching James from the corner of his eye. “I know he’s been working out since you went and died. Dude’s ripped under that leather jacket.”

“You know that, huh?” James rolled over, propped up on his elbow as he looked down at Aleks, a happy if slightly embarrassed look on his face, but he was playing along.

“Hmm,” he nodded, watching the rosy flush of James’ cheeks. “From all our… _hugging.”_

“Look, okay, listen, I was...angry. The least they could have done was Fake you,” James said, cutting right to the chase. He had his hand in Aleks’ hair, stroking the top of his head and playing with his hair, avoiding the bandage. “But I...you know, I am. Sorry. That you got involved at the warehouse. You weren’t supposed to.”

A weighted silence fell over them as slowly something from the night before came back to him. A lot of what was said had blurred in his head, between the pain and the pills, but this Aleks remembered perfectly. The look on James’ face, the tone of his voice when he’d spoken.

“You killed someone for me.”

“Not someone,” he said, confirming he had, in fact, fucking murdered the guy, without missing a beat. “And someone had to. If the Fakes weren’t gonna and your guys weren’t leaving the hospital...” His hand swept gently over the bruises, from his ribs to the dark blemishes around his eyes.

It was fucked up how good that felt. Even more so that Aleks felt his heart speed up, his palms begin to sweat, that he was fucking unbelievably turned on. Which didn’t escape James’ attention. He dipped down for a kiss despite what Aleks was sure was not a fun taste of morning breath, and it was heated and a little rough, nothing Aleks couldn’t handle, but it hurt in a different way. A good way. And as soon as he was healed up they’d be getting back to it.

They seemed to realize at the same moment they couldn’t keep going and broke apart to breathe, looking at each other until the goddamn room caught on fire. James look a deep breath, as if trying to center himself, and Aleks wanted to laugh but it really, really wasn’t funny. He needed a minute to get his shit together, and for the painkillers to kick in. And maybe James did too, because he slipped out of bed and pulled on his boxers, promising he’d be back before he left the room.

He could hear James talking to Mishka, and then someone on the phone - Joe probably - about Ein, and insisting he’d explain everything later but it was all good, all fine, and not to worry. Aleks tried to stay awake as the pills finally kicked in, because he needed to think about Brett, needed to talk to James about some of the things they’d said the night before. There was so much he had to take care of. But the sun was still warming the room, felt good on his aching body, and he was sleeping before James was off the phone.

When he woke up the second time it was to the smell of coffee.

“I told you you’d fall asleep,” James said, voice as quiet as Aleks had ever heard it.

“Shut up,” he tried to rub the grit from his eyes and remembered too late that he shouldn't when he wacked himself in the face with the cast. “ _Christ,_ I'm burning this thing when it finally comes off.”

“If you survive that long,” James teased but, when Aleks finally cracked his eyes open, he was offering him a mug of coffee, handle toward him so he could actually grip it.

“It's kinda cool,” he continued, “Since, you know, I didn't want you to add third degree burns to your assorted ailments if you spilled it.”

“What happened to the sweet boy I fell for, huh?” Aleks whined, accepting the mug carefully after sitting up and rearranging the pillows so he could lean against the headboard. The image of James doing the same flashed through his mind for just a moment but it was enough that he had to clean his throat and pretend he was fluffing them so James wouldn't notice.

“He died trying to figure out your messed up coffee machine.”

“Leave Old Girl alone,” Aleks frowned at him. “She's been with me for longer than either of us have been alive, you just don't know her secrets.”

“She? _Old Girl_?”

“I'm kidding, you loser. It's got a busted - thing, I dunno. I've been too busy to get a new one.”

“Just shut up and drink your coffee.”

“Coffee _and_ orders? You sure know how to treat a girl, daddy.”

“I'm leaving. I can leave. I'm going to leave right now, oh my God, that is _twice_ now, let the daddy thing go,” James started to sit up and Aleks didn't have the free hand to stop him but he did have to put his mug down because he was laughing too hard to keep it steady with just his fingers.

“I'm sorry,” he wheezed, his ribs hurting enough to bring tears to his eyes but unable to stop, “You _did_ start it but sorry. Sorry, I'll stop. I'll stop.”

“You're a fucking liar,” James muttered, but he did settle back down, maybe a bit closer than he had been. Their thighs brushed together and Aleks kind of just looked down at them, covered in the same blanket, skin warm and welcome against his, and grinned.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just. Uh, nothing.” He shook his head and picked up his coffee again to hide the smile. It didn't work, not until he’d practically buried his face into the mouth of the mug, and even then he couldn't stop it.

“Seriously, _what_?” James sighed, put out, but Aleks could hear the bemusement.

“Can a dude just be _happy,_ Jesus,” he managed to get out, and took another challenging drink. It was kind of hard with the grin, but it wouldn't go away because he had James in his bed, making him coffee and teasing him. He was, wow. He’d got lucky.

“Ugh,” James groaned, “You're so gay.”

“You say, having stuck your dick in me last night.”

“...yeah, I guess.”

“And having _my_ dick in your _mouth_.”

“Okay, shut up.”

Aleks giggled, God help him, and glanced over. Their eyes met, and the look on James’ face finally made Aleks stop grinning so fucking giddily. His eyes were focused on Aleks, his eyebrows drawn together just a bit with something not quite a frown, but close, pulling at his lips. But he didn’t look altogether upset. Whatever it was, no one had ever looked at Aleks that way and he had no idea how to place it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he nudged him with his knee, “It's weird.”

“Shut up,” James said automatically, a preloaded response. Then added softly, “How did I miss you?”

“What?”

James blushed like he was caught - full and bright, spreading from his ears and down his neck, even his ears were pink - then admitted, although it felt as though he was speaking to himself, “I'm just trying to figure out how I ever missed you before. How did I not spot you, man?”

He was glad he’d set his coffee down, sure he would have dropped it, his hands so fucking sweaty he had to wipe at his thighs, the cast catching on the sheets. Swallowing thickly, embarrassed by how touched he felt but unable to look away, Aleks scrunched his face, shooting for cool dismissal but having no doubt he missed.

“I wasn’t anything to notice.”

“Doubt that.” Without waiting for Aleks’ response, James took a deep breath, brushing his finger along Aleks’ palm, right at the edge of the cast, and said, “Thanks. I ain’t trying to add more fucking drama to the last twenty-four hours but, you know, thank you. For what you did. I didn’t deserve anyone trying to protect my name, ‘specially someone like you. I’m gonna try to earn -”

“I owed you.” Aleks cut him off before he could say anything else, “You, uh, you know, you saved my life once,”

He hadn’t wanted to...talk about this, not yet anyway, but James raised both his eyebrows and he knew there was no way to back out. He had to push forward.

“I was...shit, in high school, maybe a little older, and walking home, from a friend’s, I think, and it was just… wrong place, wrong time. You, uh,” he took a breath, rubbing the elbow of his dislocated arm and flexing his fingers. “the Hub, I mean, you guys were in the middle of a heist, I guess? I don’t know if it was from the cops or friendly fire or _un_ friendly fire, but - you grabbed me.”

He couldn’t look up yet. Needed to get through this fucking dumb, mortifying story before he sunk into his bed to die for good.

“I don’t think the bullet hit you, but you fucking rolled into me - hugged me sort of so I didn’t get brained on the sidewalk - got me out of the way. You just said, ‘Watch it,’ with your arms around me and your fucking tattoos and this look on your face like you’d actually been kinda worried. Your _pink hair_.”

James made a noise of surprise and Aleks looked up. He seemed to be chasing something, a vague memory maybe. Digging through his head and trying to remember Aleks.

“Anyway, then you were gone, and, yeah. That bullet would’ve hit me. I owed you. Not to add more drama to the last twenty-four hours.”

James didn’t say anything to that, still looking like he was chasing a memory. It was almost sweet, how hard he was trying, but Aleks hadn’t even been in his orbit when the Hub was around and it didn’t surprise him that he wasn’t exactly memorable when James had been living the criminal life. He’d been scrawny and the only colors in his closet had been black and white, and he’d been the quintessential emo fuck. Another dime a dozen hipster hanging in the wrong side of town.

“Seriously,” Aleks finally pulled his knees up so he could lean his arm on them, tilting his head so he could see James better, “Stop picking your brain. It was a long time ago and I was a pasty emo kid, you really aren’t gonna remember.”

“I mean,” James frowned, “I remember that heist, I think, because we only had one when I was...pink-haired? But adrenaline was pumpin’ and shit was goin’ down. I do remember tackling someone but, uh, not really your face or anything. Sorry,” and he sounded genuinely, actually apologetic.

“Why are you apologizing?” Aleks scoffed, “You were, you know…You were _Nova_ , and I was Eddie’s civvie friend who just mooned after you and your stupid pink hair.”

“Yeah, well,” James said, and then took a deep drink of his coffee. Aleks could see the pink of his cheeks still, though, that kinda pleased look that made Aleks want to start grinning all over again.

“I was a piece of shit back then, even more than I am now, so...I guess it was a good thing we didn’t meet until, you know, I came back. Still,” He lowered his mug, gave Aleks an appreciative once over, “I gotta say. Well done past-me for putting a down payment on you, huh? _Damn_.”

“Oh, baby,” Aleks fluttered his eyes, “if you think I’m sexy now, wait until the casts are off and the bruises are gone,”

“I can do that,” James smiled, setting a careful hand on one of Aleks’ knees. “It’s gonna be kinda fun for the next few weeks, though, huh? It’s like bondage except we don’t even need the handcuffs!”

“But the handcuffs are what make it so hot,” Aleks pointed out, and then imagined James handcuffed to his bed and spread out for him to finally touch, and kind of got a little dizzy.

“Hey,” James poked his leg, “Stop thinking dirty thoughts, your face is so fuckin’ open. No wonder you wear those ugly-ass sunglasses.”

“They aren’t _ugly!_ ” Aleks rolled his eyes. “They’re _stylish_. Something you wouldn’t know anything about, bitch. Do you even own pants that fit? Or are they all two sizes too big?”

“I have pink skinny jeans,” James shrugged and it took Aleks a second to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Oh,” he said. “You have to show me. Right, like that’s - that’s basic boyfriend rights, right? You have to show me your ass in pink skinny jeans?”

He paused, ran that sentence back through his head, and then nearly tipped his coffee over in his flurry of agitated movement, “I - uh, I meant, you know, it’s a joke, the whole boyfriend thing, I mean, we barely talked at all -”

“Aleks,” James interrupted him, that smile growing wider until it was squinting his eyes up, skin glowing in the hazy sunlight and his hair curly and messy and framing his face. He looked happy and vulnerable, like he was exactly where he wanted to be, and Aleks was so fucked. “Shut up, dude. I want to be your boyfriend.”

“I understand, I mean, labels, you know, who needs ‘em, right? I -” He stopped, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t say anymore while he soaked in what James had actually said. “...For real?”

“Are you actually stupid? You should probably tell me now if you are, just so I can be ready - of _course_ for real, motherfucker!” James set his coffee down and then took Aleks’ from his loose fingers and got it out of the way, too, so he could clamber to his knees and lean over to kiss him again.

“I want,” he said between kisses, “to be your stupid,” another kiss, his hand coming to carefully cup Aleks’ face so he could get a better angle, “boyfriend, and go on stupid dog park dates and get coffee,” he kissed Aleks’ jawline, his cheek, his lips again, soft fluttering little touches that sent Aleks’ heart skyrocketing, “and kiss you and show up at your place at weird hours to bother you.”

Aleks reached up and caught a few curls between his fingers and using them to curl along the back of James’ head, pull his face back to where he could kiss him properly. It hurt his ribs when he leaned over but he could ignore the warning sparks of pain, the arch of his bruised hip as he put weight on it, of his bruised up face from how hard he was kissing him, because he was _kissing_ him.

James let him, matched it with just as much enthusiasm, if a gentler touch than his own, and Aleks kind of wanted to just...stay like this, forever. Naked in bed, coffee next to them, the sound of a dog outside of the bedroom, James’ hair between fingers and his beard scratching his face and their lips working against each other.

But he had to stop eventually, let them both breathe and also resituate himself or risk passing out from the pain again. Maybe it was cute the first time, but he would prefer to be awake while James was in his bed.

“That last one,” he stroked his fingers through the curls, kind of in awe that he was just...allowed to touch, allowed to do whatever he wanted and James would just move into the touch like a cat, “Might be a little hard with our crews being, you know, not so into each other.”

James hummed, eyes slipping shut as Aleks found a particular spot a few centimeters above his ear and rubbed at his scalp until James went boneless..

“So we’ll just join you.”

Aleks’ fingers stopped moving and James made a displeased sound, blinking his eyes open again to look at him.

“Join us?” Aleks repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, like,” James closed his eyes again, tilted his head a little to prompt him and Aleks went back to scratching through the curls. “I mean, we just wanted my turf back but...you’ve got it covered. It’s stupid for us to fight when we both want the same thing, and if we combine our resources, we’ll be stronger than any of those losers trying to fight us. Brett wanted to expand, anyway, didn’t you say?”

“But, dude, you’re - you’re _Nova_. Shouldn’t _we_ join _you_?”

“Nah,” James sighed, slowly dropping until his head was on the pillow again, face against his hip, looking pleased as fucking punch to be laying there with Aleks stroking his hair. “Your guy will take it better if it sounds like we’re giving in to you, right? Whatever. My guys are chill. Asher likes you guys more than us, anyway.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Aleks said, but the idea was already warming up to him as he spoke. Four more hands would make his life infinitely easier. No more split loyalties between the guy who had cleaned up the streets in the first place and the one that had kept them clean for the last couple years, or fighting for the same resources like with Farid’s cars. And if word got around that _Nova_ had joined the Immortals instead of them being absorbed into _his_ crew, other crews would think fuckin’ twice before coming after them.

“You seriously think your guys would go for joining the Immortals?”

“One condition,” James opened one eye, only just barely because he was a lazy fuck when he was comfortable apparently, “That name has _got_ to fuckin’ go. I’m not runnin’ around with any crew called the Immortals. That’s bad fuckin’ luck is what that is. Testing fate, idiot.”

Aleks hummed a small laugh as he carefully settled back down, grimacing at the big ball of ache that was his body, and thought, well, James wasn’t wrong. Maybe he was testing fate a little and had the bumps and bruises and broken bones to prove he wasn’t coming out on top. Still, it was difficult to imagine any of it as losing, not when he got to sink back into the mattress and pillows next to James, feel his body pressed against him, the heat of it, the smell of his shampoo and cologne and sweat. All the daydreaming Aleks had done as a kid, wanting to be closer to Nova, he’d never actually imagined this. Little moments where they’d be quiet, and close, and happy just to be next to each other.

Getting into business together wasn’t the worst idea. It’d be a hard sell to Brett, but he’d come around like he always did. Once the anger and disappointment and frustration settled down, the inevitable threats of violence, he’d see it was for the best, for _all_ of them, and maybe the only move to keep them all safe. If he got Lindsey on his side, it would be infinitely easier.

The idea of hiding anything anymore felt exhausting. James and him had laid most of, if not all of their shit, on the table and it lifted a weight off Aleks that he hadn’t really noticed how heavy it was. Brett, the rest of the crew, they’d understand. Trevor had already shown how easy it could be. All of this had only ever been as fucked up as _he_ was trying to make it, and he was done making it too hard for any of them to handle anymore.

“Okay,” Aleks said, turning his palm and wiggling his fingers until James got the hint and held his hand. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

James was looking at him in that way again. It made him feel exposed, aware of every imperfection on his face and the way his eyes always gave too much away, and he wished he was wearing his sunglasses before pushing that thought away. It didn’t feel bad that James could see so much - the fact he wanted to only felt unlikely and exciting.

And anyway, he liked what he could see on James’ face too much to turn away. No one had ever looked at Aleks like they were in love with him but he had a feeling that now he knew what it looked like. It looked like James in the morning, his eyes half closed and hair everywhere, face so close to Aleks’ he could feel him breathing, pressing in for a kiss.

“Worth a shot,” James repeated, bringing his hand up to touch the long blond of Aleks’ hair.

-

Sometime later, after Aleks had taken a hot shower to loosen up his shoulder and brushed his teeth, ate breakfast, and quickly returned to lying naked in bed with James for another fun round of _very slow_ sex, but in the _sunlight_ this time, his phone vibrated enough times he actually answered even though he’d rather continue snooping through James’ YouTube app history and teasing him.

“Using Lindsey was underhanded,” Brett said as soon as he answered, sounding disgruntled.

“Maybe,” Aleks admitted, tapping thoughtfully on James’ thigh, “but it had to be done.”

“This is a bad idea,” Brett warned and Aleks smiled at his tone.

“Well, if you think _that_ was an idea, get a load of this one.”

“Aleks.”

“You _said_ you wanted more people in the crew and, listen, dude, good news! I just found _four!_ ”

Brett hung up.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. we love you <33


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